Honor thy daughter
by Kasora
Summary: Just less then a year after Arthur's coronation as King of Britain, Saxons burn a village northwest of the wall. Apart from maps, what will the knights find? How does it affect one knight?
1. Prologue

**Honor thy daughter**

**Disclaimer:** Well I don't own any of the knights or anything belonging to the movie 'King Arthur' or the legend. Unfortunately I don't own Lancelot however much I might in my own reality.

**A/N:** You now get to read my King Arthur fic I started for friend purposes. Actually I was inspired by a King Arthur fic that's being written by someone here at the moment. The fic is set after the final battle - but, none of the knights died, why? Because I said so. So, without further ado, welcome to my fic. This is the prologue – which gives you a sort of introduction to my fic. It's short yes, but I'll post the first chapter a bit later on today.

Please read and review. Tis a nice thing to do xD

* * *

Bors, Gawain and Galahad waltzed arm-in-arm down the street. Quite drunk, singing in raucous voices the infamous song that Vanora – Bors' lover and should-be wife – sung the night that Arthur told the knights about the last mission they would have to do if they wanted their freedom from Rome's service. 

Lancelot looked up from where he was polishing his twin swords on a stairway nearby. Grinning he shook his head as he tried to figure out why he wasn't equally as drunk as his fellow knights.

"Lancy!" Galahad yelled, noticing their dark-headed brother-in-arms. "Join us! Back at the tavern there are enough maids to satisfy even you for a night or even two!"

Laughing Lancelot shook his head. "Not tonight Galahad."

"But…whatever is the matter Lancelot? Come, brother! You must drink!" Gawain protested, loosening his hold on Bors' head and stumbled over to Lancelot.

Between Bors, Galahad and Gawain they managed to heave a slightly unwilling Lancelot onto his feet, relieved him of having to carry his twin swords by sheathing them on his back, and pulled him in the direction of the tavern. As they entered, several barmaids looked up and sent winks and looks towards Lancelot who shifted on his feet uneasily.

Unfortunately for that knight, Bors noticed.

"Aha!" He grinned. "Is this perhaps the reason why our fellow brother did not wish to visit this lowly place? Did he perhaps, wish to avoid a few of the maids around?"

"Quite the opposite in fact Bors. I merely wished to have some peace and quite for a change. I know, that isn't at all like me is it? I just felt the need to have some quite time. I wanted to think. But now that I'm here I may as well have some ale. Vanora, if you please!" Lancelot flopped down next to Galahad on a bench.

"My friends! Join us!" Bors raised his cup in the direction of the opening of the tavern. Dagonet and Tristan walked over to the table and sat down next to their friends.

"Bors, have you heard?" Dagonet elbowed Bors in the ribs to get his attention.

"Heard? Heard what?" Bors stared at Dagonet, swaying ever so slightly.

"There's a village north-west from here….Saxons have attacked it. Arthur wants to travel there," Dagonet replied, munching on an apple.

Tristan cut a piece off his own apple and stuck it in his mouth. "If you ask me, Arthur believes that there is a survivor or two. You should've seen his face when he heard from the messenger."

"Crazy, that's what it is," Lancelot said. "Saxons take what they want, and kill what they take. Why is Arthur risking our lives to travel to a destroyed village…and so soon after the attack – the messenger couldn't have left yet."

"You know as much as we do Lance," Dagonet said "If you wonder so much, ask Arthur yourself."


	2. Pillows and hangovers

**Disclaimer**: As in last chapter – I own nothing…apart from the village. On a seperate note - "March to Glory" (Lancelot's horse) belongs to the series "Thoroughbred" by Joanna Campbell - no not the horse, the name xD the name belongs to the series, but I thought the name somehow suited a war-hardened horse that's seen victory. Now…if I owned the knights…  
Ooh and I think this'll be the last time I do a disclaimer…it's the same every time, if it isn't I'll do a mini disclaimer at the top saying what else I'm disclaiming.

**A/N:** Oh my! 5 reviews for a little prologue --bows down-- you people are great --gives knight shaped cookies to every reviewer and reader-- xD

**Celebsiwe –** mwah, thank you muchlys. Luckily for me, you haven't read the first chapter in a little while…pets you xD

**LANCELOTTRISTANBABY**** –** I couldn't find it in my heart to let any of the knights die…so…they live. I hope you like this chapter…and if everyone's lucky (including me) I'll get the second chapter up either later on today or asap tomorrow. Thanks for the review xD

**KnightMaiden**** –** hehe thank you --bows-- Hm…well to start with – Lancelot gets to do something he never thought he'd do…and I've got a character or two lined up for some of the knights so you'll just have to wait and see. Thankies muchlys for the review. Hope this chapter pleases you xD

**Voldie on Varsity Track**** –** you've seen Spamalot? Lucky you. I want to see Spamalot. Lancelot? Gay? Well it might work with the storyline…possibly, that'd be a very interesting twist. Thanks for the review xD

**Wanderer of the Roads**** -** --suffocates-- it's awesome? Why thank you hehehe. The title is cool? Well it's actually a playoff…you'll see in the second/third chapters mwah. I wanted humour so I decided that waltzing knights would give that humour to me and to anyone who would read it xD I know Lancelot is cute, why do you think he's my precious? heeee.I know, I couldn't reallyundestand it when he said he wanted peace. But he's oh so sweet, I have to agree. Tristan, wise, yup I can see that. I have to agree, I think he's wise too. Isn't it said that wise men don't say much unless they have to or something along those lines? Well even if it isn't a sort of saying, I say it is. Yes, leaving for the village…don't forget that four knights had some ale. And here is a chapter for you xD

Thanks ever so for the reviews, and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

* * *

"Lancelot, wake up!" 

Lancelot mumbled into his pillow and grunted.

"Lancelot, this isn't amusing!"

"Go 'way, I'm sleeping," Lancelot lifted his hand, which then flopped over the edge of the bed and lay quite still.

"Lancelot! I thought I told Dagonet to tell you, Bors, Gawain and Galahad about the village that was destroyed by the Saxons north-west of here yesterday," Arthur ran his hand through his tousled hair and glared at the still figure on the bed.

Lancelot lay on his bed for a few more moments, grunted again and opened one eye and glanced at Arthur. "What has that got to do with waking me up before dawn? What do you mean to achieve by it?"

"It means my dear friend, that, we are going to the village. We are leaving at dawn. You might want to get up otherwise I promise you faithfully, I'll have Jols attach rope around your feet and you can be dragged all the way to the village. Would that suit you better?" Arthur threw back the blanket covering his friend and glared at him.

"They told us 'bout the village but nothing about leaving today. Now."

"I would've thought that would have been clear to you my dear fellow. Will you get up?" Arthur paced the room, a frown etching his forehead.

"Arthur, what is bothering you?" Lancelot sat up, ran a hand through his hair and stared at Arthur.

"Have you seen Bors recently? Not since the four of you staggered to your rooms no doubt. Care to have a look at him?" Arthur said. "You all should not have become drunk last night. It had dire consequences on all of you. The last I saw of Gawain, he was making unpleasant sounds outside the stables."

Arthur strode out of the room, leaving the door open.

Lancelot went over to the door and shut it, thinking.

Bors, Lancelot, Gawain and Galahad were so drunk by the time that they had finished drinking the night before – they had drunk themselves into oblivion so that they had been retching in paddocks and outside the stable. Amazingly, they had managed to get to their rooms; Lancelot seemed to remember Jols hovering around somewhere.

Sighing, Lancelot shrugged on his shirt, pulled on his boots and walked out of the door.

* * *

The stables were a flurry of activity as Lancelot walked into the yard. 

Dagonet and Tristan were leading their horses out of their respective stalls – both men looked ready to go to battle.

Galahad was swaying as he did up the girth on his saddle.

Bors was leaning on the door of his horse's stall groaning heavily.

Gawain wasn't to be seen, but judging on what Arthur told Lancelot when he woke him up – Lancelot could understand if Gawain couldn't be found anywhere normal.

Sighing, Lancelot looked for his tack.

"Jols," he motioned the squire over.

"Morning Lancelot. Feeling better then last night?" Jols hurried over to the stall door, where Lancelot was standing.

'_Aha! So he was the one who helped me to bed last night…or…at least had something to do with it,_' Lancelot realised. "Jols, I'd love to know something."

"Lancelot?" Jols frowned at him.

Lancelot leaned on the stall door and looked at the squire, and, in a stage whisper, asked – "Where in the name of all things Christian is Glory?"

Glory. No, not a mare, Glory is a stallion. His full name is March to Glory, given to Lancelot after Lancelot lost his first horse – Achilles – during a fight.

Jols chuckled. "Sorry Lancelot. Didn't anyone tell you? I was told by Arthur to tack up Glory and take him out of his stall. He's waiting in the yard…didn't you see him there?"

"Oh. Thank you Jols," Lancelot shuffled his feet and walked to the yard.

* * *

"Lancelot, I do hope you are not planning to ride with us. Where is your armour and swords?" Tristan remarked, looking under his horse's neck at Lancelot. 

"I do hope you still aren't suffering from your drinking habits last night," Dagonet looked over. "I do not wish to have to be looking after more than one suffering knight."

"Where is Gawain?" Lancelot looked around the yard, looking for the knight that was not to be found.

"I last saw him running out of here for a tree," Tristan commented. "He should be back soon enough," he then swung his leg over his horse's back and sat, looking down at Lancelot.

* * *

Having found Gawain lying under a tree, not moving, he was forced to get up and ride with the knights. Arthur was unmerciful – it was Gawain's fault that he was like this and he had to carry his fault. Therefore, he had to ride with the knights, whether he liked it or not. 

Bors rode up to beside Lancelot. "The ale hasn't made you succumb to it yet?"

"Does it look that way?" Lancelot smirked. "Remind me to tell Vanora, I never knew that you could look so pathetic in the morning."

Bors growled. "Don't you think about it boy."

Lancelot smiled and urged his horse into a canter to reach their leader.

"Arthur."

"Lancelot."

"Arthur, why are we travelling to a village that the Saxons destroyed only yesterday? They might still be in the area."

"I know - we just have to hope that they're not. There was a man in the village entrusted with something. I must know if it's still there or not. If it is we're taking it to the wall for protection."

Lancelot looked puzzled. "What exactly?"

"To start with, there are maps. Maps of secret routes that Saxons have taken in the past years, and that they still use. To know the routes will give us the advantage. Secondly, there is a family that I had taken into my care – the mother had been abused by Saxons in the past."

'_Arthur's forehead is forever etched with sorrow, grief or thought nowadays,_' Lancelot thought. "So we're travelling now to see if we can find them? In the hope that they might have fled and survived? We are riding in the hope that they live, although it is doubtful. Arthur, it's pointless. The Saxons burn villages to the ground and kill every living thing. What is the point? The maps would have been burned," Lancelot protested, looking at his friend.

Arthur nodded. "But we try Lancelot. Isn't that what we've always done? We always will as well. The maps, if not taken, would not have been burnt."

"What makes you so sure?" Lancelot raised an eyebrow and stared at Arthur.

"They were hidden in one of the huts in the ground. The villagers had dug a hole which turned into an underground room where they hid the maps and anything sacred to the families. I hope that the Saxons were not smart enough to realise about the trap door," Arthur replied quietly.

"We pin our hopes on people who might be your servants?" Lancelot snorted. "Forgive me Arthur, but frankly, it is all in vain in my eyes."

With that, Lancelot rode ahead of the rest of the group, save for Tristan. Tristan was scouting the area ahead to make sure that they wouldn't ride into a band of Saxons.

Arthur sighed. However much he loved his knights, he wished that they would understand certain things the way he did.

'_That is why I love Guinevere,_' Arthur thought. '_She always has a good argument why or why not, and she doesn't act like a spoilt child,_' – glancing ahead at the dark headed knight who kept his back turned to him – '_she debates. Oh God, find it within your heart to help me, and I will help my knights as much as possible in return._'


	3. Remains of a village

**A/N:** You guys are so great! --counts reviews and hands all reviewers cookies--

**Honerbright: **I'm glad ye likes it xDDDD --hands ye cookies--

**Wanderer of the Roads:** ……..Lancelot! --grabs oxygen mask and breathes deeply-- I could really imagine Arthur trying to get Lancelot up, I was actually going all cooy and whatnot as I was writing it xD yes poor Gawain, imagine him trying to ride heeee. Yes, Tristan and wiseness goes together. Arthur sort of knows what he's doing. We hope. I'm glad you think the thing about the maps is wise – I wanted a reason for them to go and find what they find in the village so I needed an excuse mwah. Wise is a good favourite word to have. Awww thanks – I wanted to let the readers know that she wasn't dead or anything, and that she was actually alive. I've been wondering when Guin will arrive in your story. I'm not going to be kind to her either – I have evil plans for her. Rambling is love xD --huggled-- --huggles back-- thanks so much for your feedback

**Kal's Gal:** I take that as positiveness. Thanks for the review, hope you like the chapter

**LANCELOTTRISTANBABY: **Hope you like the chapter xD

**KnightMaiden: **I couldn't have killed any of the knights off even if I'd wanted too. And yes this is after the movie/book. The timeline's basically not quite a year after Bandon Hill. And no one died xD

**sarmatian-woman: **I wouldn't have been able to kill them, they're all so cute. thanks for your review, hope you like this chap xD

**Voldie on Varsity Track:** I still want to see Spamalot xD I'll look out for the soundtrack then – I heard about it opening and I really wanted/want to go and see it but I haven't been able to. Hehehe you haven't seen all the movie! Hurry up and finish it. Only don't watch Lancelot's death scene – worse part of the movie hehe.

To the anon reviewer about making a/n's short - if you don't like it, then stop reading the fic altogether – I write and make the decisions, if you don't like, don't read.

Sorry about making this chapter 850ish words of actual story, but I decided to cut it where I did because I decided it made a nice sort of cliffy. I promise you, the next chapter will be much, much longer to compensate. Oh and a quick note – I doubt I'll be able to update tomorrow (even though I've got the chapter pretty much finished) because I have a concert that I have to perform at. So I'll be spending most of tomorrow at school.

* * *

Dismounting from their mounts, the knights looked around – each of their faces were etched with sorrow and grief, expect for Tristan's. Tristan stood there with a expressionless face, not even his eyes betraying the sorrow he felt deeply for the people that had lost their lives. 

Bodies were littered everywhere, all unidentifiable due to the burnt states of the carcasses. The stench was unbearable, even for war-hardened knights as they were.

Galahad clamped a hand over his mouth and gagged. "Arthur, please tell me we don't have to touch the bodies."

Arthur didn't reply, he just stood there staring at the debris around him.

"Arthur!" Lancelot drew him out of his thoughts. "Where is the pit we're looking for?" He looked around at the rubble, ruins and frames which would once have been called huts.

"Over here," Arthur replied in a daze. "They're all dead – God, what do we have to do to stop the Saxons? Must everyone suffer before they relinquish their torture of Britain?"

Arthur heard Lancelot sigh deeply, then silence.

Drawing in a deep breath Arthur stiffened as he felt a hand grasp his shoulder.

"It was not your fault," Lancelot's voice cut over his thoughts.

"Oh, but it is Lancelot," Arthur said.

Ignoring Lancelot's questioning glance he strode forward a few steps, and then walked in a circle.

"Crazy," Galahad said, then buried his face in his hands as his headache (due to the hangover) started throbbing behind his eyes again.

Gawain stood there, one hand on his stomach.

Bors was clutching at Dagonet for dear life as his eyes rolled continuously in his head.

Tristan watched Arthur, through his braids that were hanging over his eyes, waiting for an order of any kind, whether it be by voice or motion.

Lancelot stood, watching Arthur climb over and through the ruins.

* * *

Arthur climbed over what would once had been a fence. Ash mingled with charred remains of human bodies and wood. Looking to the west, he counted as he stepped. 

"Here!" he exclaimed, unsheathing Excalibur.

Lancelot and Tristan were the first two to jump over the ruins and reach Arthur. The others followed at a much slower pace – Dagonet had to take half of Bors' body weight.

"Excalibur?" Lancelot asked.

"I don't know what else will be down there," Arthur replied.

Immediately, Lancelot and Tristan unsheathed their swords while Tristan's hawk flew off his shoulder and into the sky. The others arrived, with Galahad and Gawain holding onto one another as they climbed slowly over the rubble.

"Fight?" Dagonet asked, looking at the swords clasped by their respective owners.

"If Tristan's lucky," Lancelot smiled grimly.

Dagonet grinned, let go of Bors and clasped his axe menacingly. Arthur looked down at the ground.

"Dagonet."

* * *

Gawain flinched with each blow that Dagonet's axe struck against the metal. 

Galahad groaned and moved away slightly.

Although no one saw it, Tristan half grimaced, half grinned behind the mane of hair that surrounded his face.

With a half-hearted groan the metal door gave away to Dagonet's axe. Standing back, Dagonet let Arthur kneel in front of the trap door.

"Tristan, Lancelot."

At his word the two knights knelt near him, gave their weaponry to Dagonet and shifted – with Arthur – the damaged trap door.

Lancelot peered into the gloom below them. "Arthur! I see something! A light!"

Arthur looked into the pit. "I do believe you're right! I wonder…a survivor…"

The knights all drew their weapons and followed Arthur down into the half mud, half stone stairs that led into the darkness. They moved slowly in the darkness – each keeping one arm out to make sure that the person in front wouldn't disappear, Arthur's sword was out instead of him arm for obvious reasons. The light might be from Saxons, also they couldn't see well given that the light was now a distant glow.

"It isn't that far ahead," Arthur jumped slightly as he heard Tristan's voice in his ear. Realising what Tristan meant, Arthur stopped on the step he was on and let his scout move past him onto the step below.

"It's a fire!" breathed Lancelot as they clustered together on the last steps.

Sure enough, in front of them was a fire burning merrily.

Tristan touched Arthur's shoulder and inclined his head. On a stone ledge, was a blanket that looked as though someone had recently thrown it off their body, next to the blanket was a plate.

"What was that?" hissed Galahad.

A tiny rustling sound was heard, the noise seeming to bounce off the walls.

"Mice?" Bors suggested, swinging his head around, looking anxiously.

"Hello?" Arthur said.

The knights – save Tristan – looked at their leader.

"As before – crazy," Galahad said in Gawain's ear.

"I can assure you, we are not Saxons and we mean you no harm," Arthur said, his voice echoing softly.

Another rustling, more soft, was heard.

Lancelot saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Moving quickly and deftly – like a cat – Lancelot moved to a dark, moist corner.

A pair of small eyes looked back at him at his surprised gaze.

"Arthur!" he exclaimed.


	4. Honor the living

**A/N:** My apologies, I meant to update but I never got around to it yesterday – voice, dance and going to a pre formal bash that's meant for your sibling doesn't exactly give you a free day. I didn't go near a compy of any sorts. Forgive me my dear reviewers and readers.

I actually cut this chapter xD I decided that it was starting to get too long (I've started the rambling phase of the story xD), plus I wanted to feel special updating sooner (after this chapter) with another chapter (if that makes sense).

Review replies at the end……..

* * *

At Lancelot's raised tone, the little curled up ball gave a high-pitched shriek and darted between Lancelot's legs. 

"We don't want…" he started, and turned as he watched the dark little object run towards the stairs…

"Got you!" Bors declared, scooping up the child in his arms.

The child gave a second sharp shriek and tried to bite Bors' arm. That failing, kicked and scratched wildly, mumbling incoherently.

"Hey, hey, hey. Calm down little one," Bors crooned.

"Lemme go!" the child yelled, tears starting to pour down their cheeks.

Bors knelt on the ground and gently set the child on the ground. "It's all right little one, we won't hurt you."

"Saxons?" the child whispered.

"No, Sarmatian knights. And our king, King Arthur of Britain. Surely you have heard of us?" Gawain squatted next to Bors and smiled at the child.

"King Arthur and his fabled knights who can't be killed," the child nodded slowly.

Bors smiled, thinking the child had calmed down. He was wrong. Pushing Bors' legs underneath him – causing him to fall on the ground, the child darted once again towards the stairs.

Lancelot's long arms intercepted the child, before the child tripped on the stairs. Sitting on the bottommost step, Lancelot encircled his arms around the child. Whispering quietly, he managed to soothe the sobs that were emitting from the bundle of warmth in his arms.

"That's better," Arthur kneeled in front of Lancelot. He reached out his hands towards the child, but when the child flinched he withdrew his hand.

Lancelot felt the child tense as Arthur reached out his hand. But he couldn't believe it when he felt the child flinch. Sitting there, Lancelot noticed the surprise flash through Arthur's eyes. Lancelot drew the child closer. He was very surprised when the child wrapped their arms around his neck.

Behind Arthur, Galahad, Gawain and Bors raised their eyebrows and started whispering. For once, Lancelot didn't care. He felt a warmth spread through his body, one that he had never felt before. Hugging the child close, he asked "What is your name, young one?"

"They call me Honor," the child whispered.

"You're a girl?" Bors blurted out.

"Of course, and I'll be bound you won't believe how old I am either," Honor glared at Bors.

"And how are you?" Galahad asked, lightly.

In all honesty, the only knight that didn't believe that Honor wasn't under the age of eleven was Tristan.

Honor didn't reply - she just buried her face into the side of Lancelot's neck.

"Honor?" Lancelot whispered into her hair.

"Mmmm?" Honor peered up at him.

"How old are you?" Lancelot asked softly.

"I'm fifteen," Honor replied, and then buried her head against Lancelot's chest.

"What?" Galahad gasped, tripped over his own feet, grabbed Gawain, and the two of them rolled on the ground.

Lancelot looked at the small body.

"I thought you were eleven. Possibly a tallish eleven year old…" Arthur exclaimed, amazed.

"A small body perhaps, but in all other ways a woman," Tristan stated, leaning against a wall.

Lancelot looked up at Tristan, and then looked down at Honor when he felt a hand touch his neck.

"Which knight would you be?" Honor asked softly, ducking her head, as if she expected to be hit for talking.

"I won't harm you I promise you," Lancelot said softly and gently. "I am Lancelot."

"Lancelot…" Honor looked up at Lancelot in awe. "You fight with twin swords and you are King Arthur's right hand man and closest friend."

Following that slightly gabbled and rushed statement Honor buried her head against Lancelot's chest, entwined her hands around his body and stayed quite still.

"Up Lancelot," Arthur stood and patted Lancelot's leg. "Let's get out of here."

"Arthur," the near-silent tones of the scout broke through. "Might you be wanting these?" Tristan held up his hands.

In them, Arthur could see bits of parchment.

"The maps, my king," Tristan bowed, almost mockingly.

"How did you know about the maps?" Arthur exclaimed. "I have no recollection of telling you about them."

"Aha," Tristan nodded, turned, and walked past Lancelot, up the stairs towards daylight.

* * *

Lancelot walked up behind Arthur. 

Honor was wrapped in a rug and was seated as far away from the bodies and rubble as possible. Unbeknown to her, Tristan, Dagonet and Bors had taken it upon themselves to clear the area in which Honor had been deposited.

"Arthur, what pains you?" Lancelot said softly. Thinking for a second, he came to a conclusion. "You were not to know that the Saxons were going to attack."

Lancelot did not see a tear slip down Arthur's face.

"Arthur," Lancelot tried again – urgency and worry slipping into his voice. "You are a king, you try to protect everyone, you may not have saved this entire village but you saved Honor and you saved the maps, which, if they had fallen into the hands of the Saxons, would have meant that years of work would have been wasted."

Arthur turned to face his friend. "I know but I still…worry not Lancelot, I will be well." Arthur then walked back to Honor.

Lancelot stood there for a few minutes, thinking. Reaching a decision he followed Arthur's tracks to Honor.

* * *

No one could understand it. Bors, Dagonet, Gawain, Tristan and Galahad had gathered around the bedraggled and dirty little bundle that would be otherwise known as Honor. Every time a knight said something to Honor, or asked her a question, they had realised that they would not get a reply, or any sort of response at all from Honor. She sat there, staring out into the distance, her eyes unfocused. 

"You can't even tell what the little blighter looks like," Bors murmured in Dagonet's ear.

Indeed one couldn't – mud, dried blood and dirt matted Honor's hair so that it stuck to her head in one clump – her skin was dyed a mud coloured brown, her eyelashes were stuck together with dirt and dried blood, her fingernails were covered in dried blood. Overall, it was a very dismal sight that was in front of the knights. To be honest, none of the knights could believe that she was actually a living creature – she was more of a war spirit.

"Honor."

The knights turned around to look at their king as he walked up to them.

"Honor," he repeated.

"She will speak to no one," Tristan commented dryly, running the blade of his dagger along his hand. "We have all tried. We wait."

Arthur knelt down in a muddy spot next to Honor. "Honor," he looked anxiously at her.

"What's wrong?" Lancelot walked up behind Arthur.

"Honor isn't replying to anything we say," Galahad nodded towards the still figure by Arthur.

Lancelot knelt down on the other side of Honor. "Honor? Are you feeling well?"

After a moment, Honor's eyes blinked and she looked sideways at Lancelot. "Well? Me? As well as I could be having…" she broke off shuddering.

Arthur and Lancelot exchanged a long look as Tristan stiffened. He could sense something about Honor…Tristan whistled and his hawk flew onto his shoulder. Turning abruptly, he strode to his horse.

"We'll return to the wall," Arthur said standing up. "Lancelot, do Honor the honour of looking after her until then - ride with her."

* * *

**sarmatian-woman** Survivors are fun, you can do all sorts of things with them xD Tristan AND Lancelot are too cute to die. Well yes all of them are, but if I had to choose I'd pick those two for not dying. Hope you enjoy(ed) this xD 

**Wanderer of the Roads** I'm planning on getting the knights drunk again when they get back to the wall mwah. Tristan is always wise. As he barely speaks xD As soon as I wrote the half grimace/grin I thought 'that is so Tristan'. Hehehehe yes it is a 'she' as you can see. And she knows something that the knights – particularly Arthur – need to know --cough-- I never said that. As I said before I cut the chapter, which means I'll update the day after tomorrow at the latest, it depends on the homework level tomorrow. Itching are we? That's good to know (I hope). It isn't/wasn't overly scary. I know everyone there so it was great. Hehehe he's my brother's friend (has known brother for 5/6 years – poor guy – the friend that is) and "if you ever need anyone to talk to you can find me either at home or uni" how sweet is that? It isn't a good thing that we can only talk once every 24 hours – I mean……ranting is love! We must rant more often. Stupid one review per one chapter. Thanks for the review xD --huggled, grabs cookies-- --huggles back and showers with cookies and pictures of knights--

**Kal's Gal**thanks for the review, I hope you enjoyed the chapter xD

**Naril** I'll try not to do too many cliffys in the future, they just sorta happen. But I promise you faithfully, if I ever do a cliffy, I'll update 24 hours later no matter what. It's always great when a silent reader reviews, thanks muchly xD I'ma writing. I split this chapter as I said before. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll update as soon as possible xD

**Evenstar-mor2004** I must say I agree, I wouldn't particularly want to go near any of them either. And as it has so happened, she's only gone near Lancelot, he's such a great guy xD I wouldn't be near the town, I'd be in Sarmatia or Rome, no where near Britain xD thanks for the review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	5. Vanora meets Honor

**A/N:** I'm so sorry! The net at home crashed for the past few days and I haven't been able to get on at all I'm so sorry. So, to try and help you forgive me, have a chapter and I'll update as soon as possible with the next one xD and for all Galahad lovers, he's gonna get some loving. My friend's asked me to do so and so I'm gonna make a character that Galahad'll love xD

**Honerbright: **hehehehe thankies. Galahad'll get some loving, I promise you that. Next chapter xD

**LANCELOTTRISTANBABY** sorry about the delay, but I hope this one pleases you xD

**Kal's Gal:** hope you enjoy this chapter xD

**Naril:** heee thankies kindly. Yes her name is one of the reasons for the title. This is set – if I remember rightly – not quite a year after King Arthur. And Guinevere and Arthur married a little while ago (no children yet – that theme comes into the story) and Vanora and Bors haven't got round to marrying yet.

**Wanderer of the Roads** --huggles back-- you like the name? yay! xD it wouldn't be comfy would it? She willl be alright…eventually…Tristan is always wise! I thought you'd figured that. Hehe. She might, I'm not very sure. Maybe I'll ask all readers/reviewers to tell me if they think she should become Lancelot's interest. But it wouldn't be for a while though due to her 'issues'. Not only the knights get drunk but something happens xD I've plotted. Hehehe. Pretending? Mwah that's my girl. I have a dislike for maths homework. Maths as a subject isn't bad, but homework is --nods-- he is very very very sweet indeed. Oh I do talk to him xD he's cool. Actually I'm worried – he sent me a text saying he wants to talk to me tomorrow in private and I don't know what. I hope everythings okay…and that's me ranting for you. No talkies in OVER 24 hours this time --paws-- --dances in shower of cookies and cardboard knights-- xDDDD Gollum! Mwahahahahahahahahahaha oh precious. We have the precious, unlike the filthy humanises and hobbitsies. We can plot withouts them knowing oh yes precious.

* * *

Vanora looked up as she heard the sound of hooves. She stood up straight as she heard the call of the guards telling folk to move out of the way, and to open the doors. Putting Gilly in charge of his younger brothers and sisters, she walked to the stable yard. Sure enough, she could see the knights galloping towards the yard. Smiling to herself she waited in the shadows. 

Arthur was the first one to arrive.

'_He always looks so tired and old now,_' Vanora thought to herself as she looked on silently at the King of Britain as he handed his reins to Jols.

A commotion was made, as the other six knights rode through the archway and dismounted, save for Lancelot. Vanora squinted as she looked towards that knight. There was a bundle in his arms…could it be a person? Moving towards the knights she stared openly at Lancelot.

"Where's Vanora? And the bastards?" Bors bellowed, looking around at the crowd.

Vanora grimaced. She strode forward and slapped Bors over the face.

"That's all you can think about! What in God's name is with Lancelot?"

"That'd be Honor my dear," Bors grinned. He grabbed her and kissed her openly.

From beside him, Galahad and Gawain smirked.

Vanora groaned inwardly. Pushing herself away from Bors she slapped him again and glared. Walking away from Bors, over to Lancelot she looked up at the knight who was still in the saddle with his arms around the bundle.

"What do you have, Lancelot?" she asked quietly, looking up into the knight's dark eyes which revealed nothing of what he was feeling or thinking.

Lancelot ignored Vanora. "Arthur!" he called.

Vanora stared up at Lancelot as Arthur strode over.

"What is it?" Arthur asked tiredly, running his hand through his wind-blown hair.

"Honor refuses for anyone to take charge of her while I dismount after her," Lancelot said.

"Honor? Who or what is Honor?" Vanora asked.

"Refugee from Arthur's village," Tristan said from behind her. "She's in shock."

"Make Honor stay on Glory and dismount Lancelot," Arthur said, relieving Lancelot of Glory's reins.

Lancelot nodded.

Vanora watched curiously as Lancelot bent his head and whispered to the human that was bundled in a rug in his arms. Smiling slightly, Lancelot balanced the bundle in front of his just in front of the saddle. He jumped off Glory and then reached up as two very dirty hands reached out from the depths of the rug to grab hold of his shoulders as the bundle slid off Glory and into Lancelot's waiting arms.

"Jols," Arthur motioned over to the squire.

Watching Jols take the reins and lead Glory away he continued "Lancelot…Vanora, would you help bathe Honor? And would you do something for her hair?"

Vanora nodded. "Lancelot, do you mind if I come to your chambers? Mine have the children running all over the rooms and I have no doubt that your friend there would prefer the peace and quite as opposed to having to listen to one of the most rowdy family of children here!"

Lancelot looked slightly surprised for a moment but then nodded.

'_Poor Lancelot. I don't think he overly expected having a woman and a girl invade his chamber. I wonder where he'll sleep,_' Vanora thought, smiling back at Lancelot.

Lancelot whispered down at the bedraggled bundle and smiled.

'_How long has Lancelot been behaving like a father? Usually all he cares about is ale, women, fighting and horses,_' Vanora pondered to herself as she followed Lancelot towards the knight's chambers.

* * *

Vanora opened Lancelot's door and moved a few steps into the main room which held Lancelot's bed to allow him access. Lancelot nodded his thanks as he walked in and sat on the edge of his bed, bundle still clinging onto his arms as if for dear life. Vanora shut the door and then sat on the bed near Lancelot smiling. 

"And who is this visitor to the wall?" she asked gently, ever wary of Tristan's words – '_she's in shock_'.

"This is Honor," Lancelot smiled at Vanora.

"Greetings Honor. You must be proud, you must be one of the first people Lancelot has ever held in his arms so gently," Vanora smiled wickedly at one of her most dear friends – Lancelot himself.

The bundle moved slightly. Lancelot looked down.

"Say hello to Van, Honor."

What Vanora could only guess would be a head – judging by the amount of hair – shook quickly and then snuggled down into Lancelot's body shape as much as possible, moulding itself into his lap and then quickly became still.

Vanora looked, puzzled, at Lancelot who bit his lip and looked down at Honor again.

"Honor, do you mind if Vanora touches your hand at least? You need to bathe to get the dirt and blood off your body and I do believe that Vanora will be the one to help you do that. Please?"

After a few seconds of tense silence between the two adults the head nodded quickly, and then stilled. A dirty paw unfolded its fingers from Lancelot's arm and snaked out slowly towards Vanora. Lancelot smiled. Vanora smiled.

Reaching out slowly, Vanora's pale hands enfolded the grubby paw in hers. "I hope you will be happy here Honor," she said softly.

"Honor?" Lancelot asked, inwardly pleased that Honor would pay attention to him only and that she would respond vaguely to Vanora.

Honor looked up at him, and, from what Vanora could see, with pure adoration stared up at Lancelot.

"Do you mind if Vanora helps you bathe now?" Lancelot said quietly.

"No," Honor shook her head furiously.

"Please, Honor. She's one of my closest friends. She would never do anything to harm you," Lancelot pleaded.

"You're trying to get rid of me? Aren't you?" Honor stared up at him and hissed.

"What! No, Honor, never. Please believe me," Lancelot stared at her, his eyes melting.

Vanora tried her luck, both thumbs rubbing the paw gently. "Please allow me to do this Honor, surely you realise that neither Lancelot nor I mean you any harm whatsoever?"

The paw snatched itself back out of Vanora's grasp.

"That's what they said. And what did they do to me?" Honor grit her teeth.

"They?" Lancelot frowned, looking down at Honor.

"Leave me be!" Honor shrieked, hitting Lancelot and crawling off his lap onto his bed.

Lancelot and Vanora watched, spellbound, as Honor crawled to the corner, the rug trailing off her tiny body, and curled up in a ball. Vanora looked at Honor in horror.

Picking up her skirts she moved backwards onto the bed to sit as close to Honor as possible without scaring the child. She then reached out towards Honor and to her amazement, Honor flung herself into her embrace, rocking and crying. Lancelot sat on the other side of Honor and put one arm around Vanora and the other one rested on Honor's back.

'_Life will definitely change, not only for Lancelot, but for everyone,_' Vanora thought to herself, hugging the dirty bundle close.


	6. Vanora and Honor

**A/N:** Sorry about the wait – I've been very busy with school. I've been so busy that I should be doing homework, but I'm updating instead. School is annoying, however much one likes it. Luckily, the holidays are in three weeks which means a lot more time for writing, which, of course is never a bad thing. Also, at the start of the holidays I'll be posting a new story I've started writing, keep your eyes peeled in a few weeks xD

**Disclaimer:** Okay, I'm adding to it. I only own Honor. I don't even own Phaedra. Hang on…I own the character Phaedra, but not the name. The name was snagged from Greek mythology.

**Honerbright:** I take it that you like it xDDDD --takes cookies-- why thank you my brilliant lil Gemzeh. Note. Galahad loving. xD

**Lancelottristanbaby:** so do I, I find it fairly easy to imagine him as a father…which would be hard for him to really do, but of course here, he thinks that once Honor is healed, someone will take care of her and he can go back to his womanizing ways…so he thinks…

**Kal's Gal:** thanks for the review xD I takes it that you're enjoying it. Hope this pleases.

**Gwenn0:** oh thanks for the kind words indeed xD well, Honor is good for Lancelot, in more ways then one. Remember the feeling he got when he was holding her in the village. I'll keep my story as long as people are interested in it xD and probably beyond too. I find it refreshing too, to see Lancelot as a gentle sort of person. It's very fun to write because I can be as sweet as I like while writing his character (because of the fatherly touch), instead of the macho knight. I hope you enjoy the chapter xD

**Wanderer of the Roads:** --patted-- thank you ma'am xD so do I. I hate them with a passion. Of course they can't! Gawain might get some in future…that's an idea xD or possibly Dagonet…hm… to tell you the truth, I don't rightly know who "they" are either. Or though I think I know. It seems impossible. I know. I actually quite adore Lancelot like this, though of course, who could say no to the macho and oh-so-cute knight? xD mwah that would make the story have a twist…them lovers on the side. Intriguing…ooh and keep your eyes open, I'll be doing a Lanceh romance, no posting it, in the holidays – approx. 3 weeks. Evil? Of course! Yes yes, they'll get really really drunk in the next chapter, I seem to make this one all Honor and Vanora – expanding their fragile relationship. Yes precious! Plotting precious, we must oh yes precious! You'll get semi-Arthur angst next chapter, as well as Lancelot, Galahad and co. and Guin will arrive. It does suck indeed, so get on again xD hurry up and update Destined To Be…I needs the Heather xD

**Daydream1:** hehehe thanks xD I was trying to figure a title…and then I thought of the plot and it snapped. It was amazing! xD ooh that's a very good storyline, to be a love child. Although so far I don't really see it happening. Yes they do have a bond. It's so sweet, I love Lancelot and Honor to death xD all the knights thought that, you're not the only one…she is old for 5 xD hehehe thankies for your kind words and I hope you enjoy the chapter xD

**Voldie on Varsity Track:** What have I ruined? I'm scared. Whats happened to Lancelot?

* * *

It took over an hour to calm Honor down. When the sobs finally subsided, she still lay in Vanora and Lancelot's arms stifling hiccups and sniffs. Finally, after Honor was too weak to do much, Lancelot pleaded with her to let Vanora bathe her, which, to his surprise, she allowed. Both Vanora and Lancelot could scarcely hide their astonishment at Honor's weak, weary and quiet "If you must Lancelot." She had agreed at letting Vanora touch her. Lancelot couldn't believe it, but even being who he was he didn't say anything having realised there was a fragile truce between Vanora, Lancelot and Honor. Anything they did or said would have a tremendous effect on Honor no matter whether it be good or bad. 

"Let's get the rug off shall we?" Vanora's soft, but cheery voice broke through Lancelot's thoughts.

Lancelot blinked as he refocused his eyes to the scene spreading out before him. He was leaning against the closed door, watching the two women closely…or at least until he fell asleep. Vanora was perched precariously on the edge of Lancelot's bed next to Honor, who had her knees under her chin, but was sitting up, one hand on Vanora's leg – whether it be for support, or simply to feel someone close by, Lancelot didn't know. The point was, was that Honor was allowing someone to become close to her. The rug had fallen around her waist, revealing a blackened, tattered dress, which was hanging off a burnt, blackened, bloodied body. Lancelot silently cursed the Saxons.

Honor stared at Vanora, which was an amazing thing to do, considering there was swelling around both her eyes.

Vanora smiled sweetly at Honor. "You'll feel better once you've bathed, I can promise you that Honor. It always feels horrible having dirt and dried blood over one's body?"

Vanora nearly fell off her perch, while Lancelot shot straight to his feet with what happened next. Honor spoke to Vanora.

"I wouldn't know. I've been like this for longer then I care to remember," her voice was low and husky, her lips cracked and bloodied, from days in the sun without any protection whatsoever.

Looking at Vanora's amazed expression, Honor chuckled, a deep sound from her throat, obviously it hurt her, due the cracked sound of her vocal chords. However, it was brilliant in the adult's minds that she did even that.

"You are surprised, no doubt?" Honor said, again very quietly.

"I…I think we both thought that you had fled to wherever the knights found you when the Saxons attacked your village," Vanora answered.

"My village? It would be no such thing, although I would dearly love to call it my own," Honor replied.

"But…the pit…it was underneath a house," Lancelot stuttered, amazed. "You must have…"

"I escaped from them shortly before the Saxons attacked. I told the villagers. A man hid me there," Honor said.

"Them? Who is 'them'?" Lancelot asked, moving over to his bed and kneeling in front of Honor.

Honor looked over Lancelot's head to the door and didn't say anything.

Lancelot stared at her.

Vanora shook her head at Lancelot. Reaching over to Honor she said clearly "here, let's get this off you." She took hold of the rug and pulled it over Honor's lap, so her legs were exposed.

"Lancelot," she gestured to Honor.

Realising what she meant, Lancelot stood and then picked Honor up, very gently while Vanora grabbed the rug and threw it onto the floor. Lancelot gently put Honor back on the bed.

"Lancelot, I'd be very thankful if you would stay here and help me get Honor into the tub, and then you can go to the tavern and join the knights," Vanora said, looking at Lancelot.

"Should not the maids assist you?" Lancelot asked baffled completely as to why Vanora was asking him to stay and watch Honor be rid of her dress.

"They could not carry Honor," Vanora reminded him gently.

Lancelot was at a loss of words.

'_He is so sweet when he is baffled,_' Vanora smiled inwardly. "I mean Lancelot, you may close or eyes or what you will while I help rid Honor of her dress. Then I can help her be wrapped in a towel and you can carry her to the tub, where, having put her in it without any water, you may leave. I can do the rest. Oh, I might require some assistance afterwards though."

Lancelot stared, Vanora's words still having not fallen in place properly yet.

"Lancelot," Vanora said, authority seeping into her voice. "You may leave and stand outside the door if you will. When I call you, I would have you take Honor to the tub."

Lancelot looked at Vanora blankly for a few more seconds. "Oh."

Vanora smiled. "Good, if you've understood. Shoo."

Lancelot shooed.

In truth, he was a bit overawed by Vanora. '_Remember, she is a mother to many children and Honor will be another for her throng._'

Lancelot shut the door quickly and leaned against it, trying to get perspective on the events of recently. One thing he would definitely need to talk to Arthur about would be the maps…and 'them' whoever 'they' may be. Honor was very much a mystery to him, and everyone that had met Honor.

Honor stared at Vanora through her eyelashes. Vanora had turned from her, and was busy, rustling through Lancelot's chest of drawers, trying to find a towel.

"Aha!" Vanora was victorious. She had found a towel. The towel had been buried at the bottom of a drawer, with layers and numerous piles of clothes and scraps of material. "Now," Vanora turned back to Honor. "Once we've got the dress off you, we'll wrap you in this –" she picked up a length of material "-and Lancelot will take you to the tub.

Honor nodded slightly, watching Vanora closely. Vanora walked back to the bed holding the material. She carefully put the material down on the bed next to Honor.

The next few minutes were hell for both Honor and Vanora. Honor stood up, without any help, and then collapsed on the ground.

"Honor," Vanora breathed, sinking down next to Honor.

Honor grit her teeth and shook her head. "I can do it. Can I have your hand?"

Vanora stared at Honor for a second. Then, nodding, Vanora stood up and held out both her hands. Honor reached out to Vanora with both hands. Vanora caught them. Honor levered herself up partially, but then sank down again.

"Here," Vanora slipped her hands under Honor's arms and linked her fingers on Honor's back. Honor never lost eye contact with Vanora as that said lady lifted Honor bodily up. Vanora smiled encouragingly at Honor as Honor collapsed on the side of the bed. Honor was forced to put all her weight on Vanora as she stood up again.

"There," Vanora murmured softly.

The acting of peeling Honor's tattered dress from her body was one of the most difficult tasks that Vanora had ever undertaken. The dress – which Vanora guessed would have once been a light brown in colour – was partially black and dark red due to the amount of ash, dirt, mud and blood that had marred the simple beauty of the dress. The process of getting the dress off Honor was difficult. Dried blood and mud had caked over the dress, and on to her body, and Vanora had to yank it off in some parts, causing her patient to bite her lip very hard and close her eyes.

Finally, after minutes of yelps and curses, the last remnant of the dress was peeled off.

"Honor?" Vanora asked very softly.

"It hurts," was the only reply she received.

Honor was curled up in a ball on the edge of the bed, moaning quietly.

"It'll hurt more in the tub," Vanora nodded.

"Then I won't bathe," came the obstinate reply.

"You will pet, you'll become accustomed to the water," Vanora replied cheerily. "Now, do you mind moving ever so slightly? I need you to be wrapped in this."

Honor opened her eyes and looked at the cloth.

"Please? Lancelot waits patiently outside, ready for me to tell him to come in again, to carry you to the tub. He would very much like to see you clean pet," Vanora leant against the bed, looking at Honor.

After many pregnancies, it was obvious that Vanora knew what she was doing, and it was also obvious that she knew how to control children and teenagers. For, what had she done? She now had Honor wrapped around her little finger. There was something about Vanora that made everyone like her and love her after a short amount of time. Indeed, this was so with Honor and Vanora. Here was a friendship like no other.

Vanora watched as Honor looked hauntingly at her. The material was now wrapped around Honor so that she was "decent" as far as certain hormonal men were concerned.

"Lancelot?" Honor whispered, the haunting look never leaving her eyes.

"Aye, Honor. I'll fetch Lancelot for you. Now no moving about to much – you could hurt yourself badly," Vanora smiled, shivering inwardly at the look Honor was giving her.

Vanora could feel the pair of eyes digging into her back as she walked to the door. Opening it, she poked her head around the edge of the door.

"Lancelot," she poked the knight in the ribs.

Lancelot opened his eyes, blinked and looked at Vanora.

Vanora tilted her head back towards the room and smiled sadly at Lancelot. "She's in a bad way Lancelot. Physically, she's burnt, worn, her body looks terrible. I can see whip marks that are never ending. Blood has encased her stomach, upper arms and thighs."

At the mention of the word 'thighs' Lancelot jerked upright and stared at Vanora, a burning question evident in his eyes.

Vanora shook her head slightly. "I don't think so Lancelot. She's just been wounded. Badly."

Lancelot closed his eyes for a second, reopened them and looked back at Vanora.

"Thank you," he uttered. "I…I am eternally indebted to you Vanora…"

Vanora smiled. "Come, Lancelot."

Lancelot followed Vanora into his chambers like a dog would follow his master. '_Indeed_', Vanora reflected to herself, '_sometimes Lancelot was very much like a little puppy._'

* * *

Gawain grinned as he watched Galahad. Since arriving in the tavern not an hour past, Galahad had enchanted, and had been enchanted by a red-headed lass not like Vanora, but even more fiery if that was possible. Red hair, blue eyes, and a fiery personality. Chuckling, Gawain turned back to his drink – she would keep Galahad on his toes that night. 

"Hey," Bors nudged Gawain.

Gawain blinked and looked at his companion.

"He is struck by love," Bors chuckled. "Or at least – lust."

Gawain grinned again, as he watched Galahad pull the girl into his lap. Now, what was her name again. Phaedra? That was it. She must have been named for the legend. Desire. That was one word that suited both her and her namesake.

"Love is a very great thing," Gawain replied to Bors, dramatically. "I wonder if we even dare to wonder what love can do to us."

"Give us bastards for one thing," Bors chuckled, his mind wandering to his lover and should-be wife, Vanora.

"True, true," Gawain replied, nodding, and downing more of his ale.

"Which reminds me…have you seen Vanora?" Bors put down his own drink, and stared at Gawain.

"Last I saw of her, she was talking with Lancelot, looking very mysterious," Gawain smirked. "Perhaps, the greatest lover of Vanora is no more, his place been overthrown."

Bors stood up. "What!"

"Calm yourself Bors. Gawain speaks the truth, Vanora is with Lancelot. Unfortunately for him however, they have a charge – Honor. Vanora is loyal to you…or isn't that obvious to you?" Tristan's quiet tones intervened.

Bors sat down again, cursing under his breath.

Exchanging glances, Tristan and Gawain then watched their friend mumble obscene things.

Dagonet shook his head. "You truly are idiotic Gawain. Do you not realise that when Bors gets his uninhibited mind back, he'll maim you?"

"As if he could hurt me!" Galahad said gallantly, purposefully forgetting the times he had been thrown to the ground by the fierce giant.

Amidst the sniggers of Dagonet and the raised eyebrows of Tristan, Gawain returned his gaze to Galahad and Phaedra, who, by this stage, were whispering words of love to each other.


	7. The tavern

**A/N:** Well, I'm back again. Unfortunately, this is a shortish chapter – time has not allowed me to write at all. I've resorted to writing during lessons. I've been told off by darling household adults that I shouldn't be on my laptop so much (typing up HTD). But, finally, I have managed to scrape something together that you should enjoy. And thanks again to my reviewers, you people are AWESOME! Consider yourself loved by the knights xD

So, enjoy xD

**Gwenn0:** it's good if you think that Lancelot's response to Honor is unexpected, to be truthful, I feel incredibly flattered. I get the whole "why didn't I think of that?" as well…you see, I don't write the characters, they write themselves. It's really quite amazing. Thanks for your praise, I hope you enjoy xD

**Wanderer of the Roads:** Oh no not you again xDDDD joke. You're my most loyalest reviewer, and I can't live without your rambles to be perfectly fair. Ooh, hows the campaign going? You must give me updates – I'm excited on your behalf. --huggled, huggles back-- she'll recover…eventually. And I don't just mean physically – obviously she has mental scars from everything. I try to make my Lancelot scenes adorable, glad to succeed xD yes, Galahad the Pure is in love xD I can't wait for the wedding…I never said that. Hang on it doesn't matter cos no one 'xpect for me knows WHOs wedding it is xDDD excited to read my Lanceh story…as in the new one? I know about timing. I'm getting very stressed out cos of school at the moment. Jenn is not happy. Oh well, holidays soon so expect to see A LOT of my story (s) out xD til next time indeed my friend xDD --hugsied-- --hugsies--

**DirrtyXtina87**It's always lovely to have a new review – welcome to the insanity clinic xD I know, I absolutely loathe the lack of Lancelot fics, that's why I'm so glad to have leapt on yours, it's a very good find (in case you're wondering, I love reading your story) xDDD thanks for the kind words and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Having deposited Honor in the tub – Lancelot had closed his eyes as Vanora slid the now-dripping cloth out from underneath Honor - Lancelot hurriedly left his chambers for the safety of the tavern. Slowing down from the long strides he'd been taking, he walked over to the table where the knights were sitting, talking, laughing and drinking. 

"Lancelot!" Gawain bellowed.

Then, at Gawain's motion, a barmaid walked over and fluttered her eyelids at the knights.

"Can I help you?" she smiled widely.

"Ale for Lancelot, here," Gawain replied slapping Lancelot on the back and grinning up at the still-standing knight.

"Of course," the maid replied, winking at Gawain.

Gawain grinned again and watched the mid as she moved back to the bar, smiling at the whistles which were directed at her from the tavern's occupants.

"Sit down!" Gawain roared, grinning insanely at Lancelot.

Lancelot obliged him and sat down on the end of the bench.

"Lancelot," Dagonet's slightly drunk voice sounded on the other side of Gawain.

"Dag," Lancelot replied. He then blinked and looked at Dagonet again "Gawain…where's Galahad?"

It was usual for anyone to find Gawain and Galahad together, plotting, flirting, teasing and drinking.

Gawain nodded his head towards the opposite end of the bench.

Lancelot's eyes followed Gawain's gaze.

Galahad was barely sitting on the bench with a red-headed maid on his lap. They were both talking quietly, and the maid was giggling every so often.

"For the night?" Lancelot asked the meaning clear.

"You should have noticed my dear, he's been here with her every night that we've been around for, for the past six months or so," Gawain laughing, slapping Lancelot on the back. Again. Hard.

Lancelot shuffled slightly away from Gawain…and nearly fell off the bench.

"Have you been drinking already?" Gawain's eyes bulged, as he stared at Lancelot who managed to scramble back onto the bench.

"No," Lancelot looked at Gawain.

"You must have been!" Gawain shot back accusingly. "You've been drinking!"

"I have not!" Lancelot glared. "I've been with Vanora and Honor."

"Oho! No wonder!" Gawain crowed. "You're on a cloud due to Honor and Vanora! They've made you this way! They've been making you happy in more ways then one, haven't they!"

Lancelot shook his head quickly, hoping that a certain knight hadn't heard Gawain's mocking drunken happiness.

Bors' head shot up from the opposite bench, on the other side of the table. "Just what have you been doing Lancelot?"

Lancelot gulped. Bors was never a good person to fight, verbally or physically – more often or not he'd left Roman guards unconscious when the knights had been in fights when they were in service to Rome.

"I have been caring for Honor, with Vanora's help Bors," he said, with dignity.

"Sure…" Gawain's taunting tone murmured near Lancelot's ear.

"Lancelot!" Bors roared, his face turning red. He stood up and glared at Lancelot across the table. "Where have you been and what have you been doing?"

"I've been in my own chambers with Honor and Vanora. I've been helping Vanora get Honor into the tub. That's all, I swear on my life Bors. That's all I have done."

Bors stared at him.

"Recently," Lancelot amended.


	8. Lancelot, Vanora and Bors

**A/N: **ok, I'm back. Fear me, actually no, fear the knights. And me. So, heres another chapter. It's over 1000 words long, and I'm already working on the next chapter, so I'll post it two days max. last week to the day, I had my dance concert which went very well. The night after that I had my school showcase, which happens once every 3 years. So for the past week I've been working on 4 hours sleep. Now, however, are holidays, so expect a lot of chapters to be posted. Hope you enjoy this one xD

**Wanderer of the Roads: **fear you? Pray tell me, why should I :P? ehehehehehehe. Just so long as you get the time to do the things that you like, that's good. Such as writing xD to compensate for the shortness of the chapter, I made sure that there was some humour in it. Glad it was good xD not bad Lancey, just very one-minded Lancey hehe. You've got homework --sings-- I don't – it's the hols now. For 2 weeks. Which does mean, keep your eye out. I might be bothered getting a new story of which I've written quite a bit of, up. And you better update too, okay? I promise to update in two days at the latest. Hope you like this one, and I'll talk to you soon xDDD

**DirrtyXtina87:** which way do you mean break? Okay, that's my sick mind poking through. He is definitely one of a kind! And we do so much need our precious. I see some Bors nad Lancelot competition appearing in the soon-to-be-light darkness. Thankies for the kind words. I hope this meets your wants.

**Daydream1: **I'm so great, I loved that chapter so much that I kept re-reading and re-reading it. Hope you like this chapter! Oh and thanks for your oh-so-kind words, I really appreciate it xD

**Gwenn0: **you're sorry for the delay in reviewing, I'm sorry for not posting this chapter. I believe we are even xD I know, I get so annoyed when my characters say to me "no way Jenn, I'm not doing that. I am SO doing this though" and they go off on their own merry way. It really gets to me. I agree, we do know our characters really real. Basically every single one of my characters are real to me, and we even have arguments xD thanks so much for your review, I love reading reviews – reviews are love. And I'm so glad you like my story, I hope you enjoy the chapter xD

**FFAMasquerade2005: **oooh thanks so much xD oh and welcome, as a reviewer xDDD I'm glad that you find I have humour in the right places, that means so much to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll update again very soon xD

* * *

Vanora twisted the dirty hair out of the way, around one side of Honor's neck. For the past few minutes, since Lancelot left, the room had been in silence. Vanora had worked quickly on washing Honor's arms which had dirt engraved in the wounds. Following Honor's arms, she'd started to clean Honor's back. 

Honor flinched, the first sign that she was actually alive since Lancelot had left the room. Vanora sighed softly. She, and everyone else, could only imagine the pain that Honor was in, both physically and mentally.

"Honor?" She murmured softly.

No response did she get.

"Honor," she said a bit more loudly. "Honor."

Still no response did she get.

"Honor?" she moved around from the back of the tub, to the side, and looked at the girl anxiously.

"What?" Honor snapped, glaring at her.

Vanora was about to snap back, but then hesitated as she noticed a telltale shimmery trail down Honor's face. Honor was crying. What surprised Vanora the most however, was the fact that she never felt Honor moving at all when the latter was crying, and Vanora had had her hands on Honor's back for quite a few minutes.

* * *

Lancelot shrank back as Bors stood up and walked around the table so that he was standing just behind Lancelot. 

"Bors," Lancelot said meekly.

"Lancelot," Bors put his hands on Lancelot's shoulders and squeezed. "So tell me, what have you been doing recently?"

"Rescuing Honor?" Lancelot tried, wincing at all the pressure that was being inflicted onto his shoulders.

"Who have been the barmaids?" Bors hissed, his question only too clear.

"Well…Lucille, Octavia, Claudia, Keali, Marina…" Lancelot counted on his fingers, but was broken off by Gawain's laughter.

"Bors, I think you have your answer. I cannot see Lancelot would be a greater enough fool to bed Vanora under your very eyes. It would be suicidal," Gawain chuckled, patting Bors' hand.

"You haven't been with Vanora?" Bors hissed to Lancelot.

"No…" Lancelot shook his head.

Bors nodded his head and walked back to his seat.

"Not since before Honor," Lancelot continued, muttering into his cup.

Gawain stared at Lancelot. "You've been with Honor?" he asked in Lancelot's ear.

"Before we rescued Honor," Lancelot explained.

"Oho," Gawain nodded, and hiccupped. "Who was the last one?"

"Octavia," Lancelot took a swig of his ale.

"When was that?"

"The night we were told that we were going to travel to the village."

"Who was the last before that?"

"Kaeli."

"When?"

"The day and then the night and then the day before Octavia. In that order."

Gawain started laughing and slapped Lancelot hard on his back for the seventeenth time that evening.

* * *

Dagonet chuckled to himself. Following Lancelot and Bors' interlude, Gawain and Lancelot had involved themselves in a brief conversation. Tristan was sitting there silently, munching on an apple. Galahad still had Phaedra perched on his knee. And Bors? Bors was earbashing Dagonet about Lancelot, Vanora, Sarmatia, and of course, the bastards. 

"Where are the bastards?" Dagonet finally broke in over Bors' endless chatter. 'Really, he's worse then the gossiping noble women who have nothing better to do with their days then gossip about who's marrying who, and discussing the latest rumours.'

"I don't rightly know," Bors shrugged. "I'm sure they're around somewhere. I'll be bound that a maid has been hooked into looking after the entire bunch."

Dagonet snorted. The maid must have been tipsy to agree to look after the bastards. There was nothing that anyone had against the bastards personally, only, when they were running around and pelting each other with food that was meant to go to the pigs or some other type of livestock…well that's when the bastards drew the line at being so cute.

* * *

Vanora sat on the bed, next to Honor. 

"Better?" she murmured, stroking Honor's hair.

Honor shook her head violently.

"What do you want me to do? Go away? Leave you?" Vanora stiffened, pondering Honor's answer.

"I just want…oh lord," Honor broke off.

"Do you want me to leave?" Vanora asked again.

"No," Honor shook her head.

Vanora thought matters through in her head.

"I'll be back, very soon Honor. I just need to go and get something," Vanora slid of the edge of the bed.

Honor didn't acknowledge the fact that she had heard Vanora, but Vanora knew that Honor had heard every word spoken.

* * *

Vanora slipped quietly into the tavern. 

'Please God, please don't let Lancelot be drunk yet. If he is, he'll do more harm then good,' she thought, praying to a God she wasn't sure of – Arthur's God.

Walking quickly over to the table where the knights were seated, she was relieved to see Lancelot sitting next to Gawain and looking bored.

"Lancelot," she said, standing next to the knight.

Blinking, Lancelot looked up.

"Vanora?" he asked, sounding very tired.

"I need your help," Vanora said, annoyed at herself for having to disturb the already tired and drained knight.

"Honor?" Instantly, Lancelot looked awake.

Vanora nodded her head.

Lancelot shot to his feet, looking very concerned.

"Come, let us go immediately," he said, putting his hand on Vanora's shoulder in order to guide her out of the tavern.

"Van?" the single word stopped Lancelot and Vanora in their tracks.

Lancelot cursed under his breath. Bors had been suspicious before. Now? Who knows.

Bors stood up. Moving over to Lancelot and Vanora he picked Lancelot's arm off Vanora and dropped it, staring at Lancelot.

"Where to now, eh? Your chambers Lancelot?" Bors said, a sneer etched over his face.

"Bors, Honor needs Lancelot," Vanora interrupted her lover's speech.

Bors just continued to stare at Lancelot.

"Bors," Dagonet stood up.

Vanora sighed inwardly. If there was one man who could keep Bors at least semi-calm and under control, it was Dagonet.

"Vanora would never be unfaithful to you. She loves you. You know this," Dagonet continued, walking around the table to stand next to Bors.

"Do not judge things when you are drunk…even though you have no better judgement when you are sober," Tristan commented dryly, peering up at Bors through the curtain of his hair.

Unfortunately for Bors and luckily for Tristan, even though the rest of the table heard Tristan and sniggered, it appeared that Bors hadn't heard.

Vanora approached Bors slowly. "You know you have my love."

Bors stared at Vanora, then blinked and nodded. "Quite right, quite right," he muttered, half collapsing into Dagonet's chest.

Gawain looked up from the table and hiccuped. "Dear me, Bors. I know that you love Dagonet as a brother, but I had no idea that you loved him quite like that."

Bors turned around, still held by Dagonet – and glared at Gawain. "What I would do to you if…"

"If?" Gawain looked at Bors slyly.

"Well," Bors belched, then looked coyly at Vanora, "'xuse me, Van."

Vanora inclined her head, and then hissed to Lancelot – "come."

Amidst Bors' loud rumbling answer to Gawain, Vanora and Lancelot snuck out of the tavern.


	9. The calm before the storm

**A/N: And yet another chapter appears, I must say I'm quite proud of myself. So, my reviewers and readers, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had computer troubles tonight as I was finishing it and my laptop erased over 300 words which I then had to re-write. I was most put out. So enjoy! **

**Oh and a comment made more then once, so I thought I'd address the issue here – Bors might appear a tad violent in chapter previous. Let me assure you, if he hadn't been drunk he'd have most probably taken it as a joke. As it so happens, he was so drunk that he couldn't take any type of joke. I like the thought that Bors can get exceptionally drunk. Like he did in the previous chapter.**

**DirrtyXtina87: **hope you enjoy this chapter by the way xD Lancelot? Bruised in the morning? What a positively delightful notion. And then as Bors would be less drunk – okay maybe still nursing a hangover – he could make positively evil comments as to what Lancelot was doing the previous night. Mwahhahaha the endless possibilities. Quite evil. Lancelot will help Honor…eventually. First though, I feel an air of angst coming…

**FFAMasquerade2005:** oh good, I'm so glad you enjoyed that chapter. I hope you enjoy this one immensely, and that it pleases you xD and I'm aiming to get the next chapter up in two days xD

**Wanderer of the Roads:** oh no, it's you again xD fiiiiine, Tristan's spiffeh line is dedicated to you. Do you want me to add a special a/n at the top of next chapter to say that? xDDDDD mm, I'd agree with that. You are addicted to Tristan. And Lancelot. I'm thinking, due to the fact that there are so many Lancelot romances about, that this story will remain father-daughter, brother-sister. I might get around to posting a Lancelot romance dedicated to you, if you want of course xD one will find more out about Honor in due course…after a little bit of angst. I'm thinking of adding some xD Bliss it would be indeed. Next term, I'm going to be heavenly busy due to exams. So I have no idea how much time I'll get to write. Fingers crossed of course. I mean to update on Sunday (two days away) due the fact I got a free ticket from dance teacher to go and see the Sleeping Beauty – ballet of course xD you should buy Tristan and Lancelot posters indeed! And hang them up xDDDD your rant pro'ly was longer by far. Oh well, my next review to whichever story you update will be longer again xD Economics? Oh, hope it goes well (although it's pro'ly already been and gone xD) _huggled huggles back_ tell Tristan I say hi, and I hope he's enjoying his holiday with you xD oho! That's were Lanceh got too. And pray tell me my dear, how exactly is he helping you with your homework? Is he giving you inspiration? xDDD ciao for now, and I expect a chapter from you. Now. _Grins insanely_ I'll be a-talking with you soon indeed xD

**Camlann:** welcome to the mental hospital where all your fantasies about the knights can come true xDDD I plan on putting some more Gawain humour into the story soon….probably next chapter in fact xD I hope you're enjoying the story even now xD ooh and if you're referring to Bors' temperament in the previous chapter, he was only that way due to his drunken state of mind and being xD glad you like the story, and hope this pleases xD

**Gwenn0: **jealous…not overly. Just very, very, very drunk. I'll take the credit, and with pleasure xD I hope you enjoy this chapter as far as the Lancelot/Honor situation is concerned…they all will eventually learn Honor's history...but it will take time. A lot of time. xD hope this pleases and thankies kindly for your words xDDDDD

* * *

Lancelot followed Vanora into the chambers, of which he was master. He drew in a sharp breath as he walked in the doorway. 

Vanora looked at him. Perhaps Honor was what he needed – to prove himself worthy of being a father figure, or at least, a knight that took his duty and fulfilled it.

"I leave you be with her," Vanora said softly.

Lancelot smiled in thanks and waited until Vanora had shut the door softly before moving over to the bed.

"Honor," he said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Unknown to him, it was the exact same position that Vanora had sat in, barely minutes past.

"Honor," he said more loudly, trying to figure out why he had earned no acknowledgement from the still length of body that had made his bed her home.

Still no response.

"I can't help you if you don't let me, you know," Lancelot said quietly.

"Meaning you would abandon me at the first opportunity possible," Honor's eyes opened and she stared at him.

"No Honor, I will never abandon you, I swear. I know that yo fear what has happened to you, and what could happen to you in the future. Take the knowledge that I would never willingly let anything happen to you that you would not like. I will protect you, to my death, as would the other knights," Lancelot said, staring into the shiny grey eyes. The grey eyes that looked suspiciously shiny, like they had been swimming in tears a short time past.

"And what happens if you and your friends were to die, trying to protect me? What would happen to me then? Exactly what would have happened, if you had not intervened with fate and brought me here, to this…place," Honor said, levering herself up onto her elbow, wincing in the process.

"You do not believe that we could not protect you, Honor?" Lancelot asked in disbelief. If Honor had no faith in the knights, what faith would she have in anyone or anything?

"I believe that you could, Lancelot. On the other hand though, I do know who you and you friends would have to face and fight, and I can assure you, if you did survive, you would be wishing, every single one of you, that you were dead," Honor said, her hair swinging across her face.

Lancelot could tell that she was starting to become upset on that subject he searched his brain, trying to think of something to say.

"I will leave the matter be Honor, but remember that if you ever need anything, or anyone, I and the knights, and even Guinevere and Vanora, are here for you," Lancelot said, trying to sound final in his words.

Honor met Lancelot's gaze then – grey eyes meeting brown, one pair serious and brooding, the other not quite angry nor upset. To Lancelot's immense surprise, she suddenly dragged her gaze from his, and started following her hands as she fiddled with the edge of the blanket that she was lying on.

"Your hair is lovely," Lancelot started to try a conversation. "Is it black, or a very dark brown like mine?" he pulled a curl of his hair and smiled warmly.

"Neither," she said pulling a bit of it round with one hand – the other still busy folding and unfolding the blanket. "It's actually a brown that is neither light, nor dark and it only shows it's true colouring when it is in the path of sunlight. Also, it only stays its natural colour for around twenty four hours after it has been washed."

"Your hair is lovely," Lancelot repeated.

Idly, one of his hands moved off his knees, to reach up and pull a lone piece of hair that had started to cover Honor's eyes away.

"It feels like silk," he almost gasped.

"I have not felt it this way in a very long time," Honor said, smiling thinly "though I suppose that it can only be expected."

"Why is it to be expected?" Lancelot asked.

"You would not wish to know why, Lancelot. Please do not question me about it," she replied, her gaze once again dropping from his face to the blanket.

"I do, it is the only way I can help you in any way," Lancelot said.

Honor shook her head, a dark cloud of hair fell over her face, but she did nothing to remove it. Lancelot did though, reaching out with both hands he smoothed her hair behind her ears carefully, so as not to inflict pain on the grazes and cuts that were slashed across Honor's face and neck.

"Honor," he began, lifting her chin so she was looking him in the eye. He stopped, once he realised that her eyes were swimming with tears. "Gods, I'm sorry."

"It has nothing to do with you," Honor said fiercely, scrubbing her hand quickly over her eyes, and blinked quickly, as if trying to get rid of any mere hint of the fact that she had been about to cry. "It is just my weakness."

"Weakness?" Lancelot looked at her, puzzled.

"It's because of them," was Honor's only offer of explanation.

"Them?"

Honor shook her head. "Worry not. Perhaps, I shall tell you some other time."

Lancelot nodded slowly, realising that Honor had no wish to talk about whatever was troubling her, and she equally did not wish to talk about her past. Lancelot made a vow at that instant, a silent vow, that whatever happened, he would protect Honor even if it cost him his life. He had promised her, but occasionally he had broken promises, usually for some just cause, but a vow? A vow was different. It was something that you would not back out of, whether or not you wished to.

"Perhaps, you will be well enough soon to come and dine with the other knights and myself, one night soon," he offered, smiling.

"That would be an honour for me," Honor nodded slowly.

"I hold you to your word my lady," Lancelot stood up and bowed.

Honor smiled, a small smile, but it can be documented that it was a proper smile.

"Now, are you hungry my dear?" Lancelot stood up straight again.

Honor shrugged. "A bit, although Lancelot, I am not used to eating much as I have not eaten a proper meal in months."

"Aha! But, you have not tasted any of Vanora's cooking. I will send for a servant directly and have her let Vanora know that you are hungry," Lancelot bowed again, his eyes twinkling.

"I will eat a bit, but only good sir, if you would dine with me," Honor said, bowing her head in a ladylike fashion.

"I would be honoured my lady," Lancelot brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Honor stared at him in partial amazement.

"I will return!" Lancelot cried gallantly, smirking at the expression on Honor's face.

Having thrown another blanket over Honor's thin body, Lancelot nearly ran out the door. Shutting it softly, he bit his lip. Even though he was known as the womanizing knight that cared only for fighting, drinking, women and his bond of brotherhood with the other knights, he cared for much more then that, although if Bors knew, Lancelot would be instantly teased for as long as Bors and he were in a hundred miles of one another. Vanora and Arthur would have to be the only two people who really understood Lancelot for what he truly was. He would do anything to protect Vanora, Honor, the bastards, and even Guinevere.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. His role was definitely changing. Shrugging his shoulders, he strode away quickly to seek out either Vanora, or one of the maids to tell Vanora that she was required.


	10. The storm brews

**A/N: **I'm sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up, but I've had the worst enemy a writer can have – writer's block. Even though I knew what I wanted to say, I couldn't seem to type it. So, this morning, I made a huge effort, sat down, and started typing furiously. And so, this chapter was made. I hope you enjoy it (considering how hard it was for me to write it) and remember, reviews are dandy xD

**Camlann:** you noticed something, no one else did. Having suffered writers block though, I've postponed the storm for a better time, but it will be very soon I promise. I've had trouble liking Guinevere too, so you don't stand alone. I have almost, a pet hate against Guinevere. I've always imagined Guin, going after Lancelot, and he just doesn't want to have anything to do with her, so I'm trying to show it in this story. Thanks for the review, and hope you enjoy.

**FFAMasquerade2005:** thanks for the kind words, it makes me want to write xD I hope you enjoy this chapter. Oh and thanks for reviewing, as, by the sounds of it, you were busy. Thanks once again xD

**DirrtyXtina87: **eeehehehehehe I know. So very, very, Lancelotish. Everyone's saying that I should pair them up…well…nearly everyone. I'm confused, I'm not sure if I really want to do it though, as he'd be betraying his fatherly image that he's set up. Maybe, just maybe, I'll write another story that has him falling in love. How's that sound? I hope you enjoys this chapter, and yes, I have finally written it xD

**The sarahnater:** thanks for your review! And I hope you enjoy this chapter considering the trouble I had to write it xD

**Wanderer of the Roads:** yes, yes, all dedicated to you. I might start writing it. Might. If I can get over the writer's block. Seems to be feeling better. But then? Disaster. Lancelot is a big sweetheart, indeed he is. Four assignments in the one subject? Woah. I hope you get them all done in time. Well that's ok, if you're stealing Tristan, I'll steal Lancelot. It all works out fine, don't it? xD they're making a Tristan movie? Without him! How dare they! He IS Tristan! Yes, that was an incredibly long rant, dearie. You have to be working. Well I should be too, but I decided to post this instead xD hope you enjoys this –huggles back- oh and you update soon. Kay? xD

**Gwenn0:** Lancelot can so, so sweet when he wants to be. I croon about it all the time xD thank you so much for reviewing when you're busy. You've no idea how humbled I feel. I hope you enjoy this chapter xDD and thanks so much for the review xD

* * *

A few seconds after Lancelot shut the door behind himself, Honor's face screwed up tightly, at the same time she winced due to the pain that screwing up her face took. Lying down on the bed, she buried her face underneath the blanket that was over most of her body. Her chest started heaving as she tried to control her breathing. Her mind wandered back a month or two, to what had started this particular chain of events. Honor's breathing became even more uneven, and she gasped, trying to get the oxygen into her lungs. Just so long as they do not find out where she is, no harm can happen. Nothing will happen. Just so long as they…

* * *

She fell slowly into a deep sleep, images flashing through her dreams, converting her otherwise almost pleasant dreams into nightmares. 

Lancelot grinned as Vanora passed him the tray of food. This would surely cheer Honor up, however slightly.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Vanora asked, quietly.

"No thank you Van, I'll be able to manage," Lancelot shook his head and smiled. "I think I have managed to scrape through her outer front…"

Vanora cut Lancelot off before he could continue. "I understand Lancelot. Go."

As Lancelot reopened his mouth to say something, she grabbed his shoulders, spun him around and pushed him gently towards the door of the kitchens.

Lancelot stopped in the doorway. "Van…"

"Go," Vanora turned her back on Lancelot and started to walk towards the huge bench which ran along three of the four walls in the room, part of which, had spices and food scraps on.

"Vanora," Lancelot turned around to face her properly. "Thank you."

Vanora looked back at Lancelot and smiled. "For you, and for Honor, I would do anything Lancelot."

"Anything?" Lancelot smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"_Nearly_ anything," Vanora amended, emphasising the first word.

"So…you wouldn't die for me, but you would do anything else?" Lancelot chuckled.

"No. I would die for you, but there's certain other things that I wouldn't do for you Lancelot. And please don't get any ideas. I know it's easy to explain to Bors, but the bastards? They would never forgive you," Vanora picked up the small jars of spices, opened a cupboard and slid the jars in.

"Even the ones that I am the father to?" Smirking, Lancelot asked, leaning against the door.

Vanora turned around sharply and stared at him for a few seconds. Picking up a small sack that had potatoes in it, she threw it in Lancelot's direction.

Lancelot ducked, and the sack sailed over his head and hit the corridor wall.

"Out!" Vanora yelled.

Lancelot grinned, but then when Vanora started advancing on him menacingly, he turned around and walked out the door. "Bye!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Vanora stopped in her tracks and grinned. You couldn't help but adore Lancelot. He was stubborn, annoying, and only had three things on his mind at all times. But he was a good man. Turning back to what she was doing, Vanora decided that if Lancelot didn't change the three most important things in his life – women, ale (or any other alcohol substance) and fighting – to include another thing – family – he would have her to answer to.

* * *

Lancelot stopped himself just in time from skipping down the corridor. Had it been a usual day, he could have hid behind the excuse that he was drunk, but he highly doubted after the turn of events, that he would get away with anything now. Walking the familiar path from the kitchens to his chambers, he smiled as he thought about what he could achieve with Honor. Her healing had started, and for that, he was grateful. 

Reaching his chambers, he took one hand from underneath the tray and knocked softly on the door. When there was no response he opened the door softly. Walking in, he smiled "Honor?" but then he stopped as he looked at the scene in front of him.

Honor was lying on the bed, an expression of pain etched across her facial features. The blanket that had been so carefully wrapped around her had been half kicked off, so it was only parts of her legs that were covered. Wounds on her arms, legs, neck had reopened and were bleeding slowly. And if those wounds were bleeding, what other wounds would there be too, Lancelot growled softly. Every few seconds, Honor would moan, and her body twisted and contorted furiously.

Lancelot put the tray down on a chair and walked quickly over to the bed.

"Honor?" he asked softly.

There was no response.

Brushing hair away from Honor's face, Lancelot cursed as her body twisted.

Sitting down at one end of the bed, where Honor's head was, Lancelot gently dragged her, so her head was against his chest. Moving so he was sitting behind her properly, Lancelot swayed slowly, whispering nonsense against Honor's hair.

"Honor, wake up," Lancelot whispered. "Please, everything's is well, no one is going to attack you or hurt you. Do you not remember what I promised you? As long as I, or the knights or Vanora live, we will see no harm come to you."

Lancelot jumped slightly as Honor moaned. He heard a very soft noise, like Honor was muttering something. Bending his head slightly, he heard the same words repeated, over and over.

"No…no…please….they would not…I will…no…" Honor muttered, almost incoherently.

Lancelot began to sway slightly, moving Honor's body in motion with his. "It will be alright Honor. It is alright. There is nothing wrong."

* * *

Lancelot blinked and sat up. The sunlight was streaming in the window. 

'That cannot be right, it is still night,' thought Lancelot to himself.

A sharp knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Lancelot?" Galahad's voice floated across the room. "Are you awake?"

"Galahad?" Lancelot murmured.

Galahad opened the door and stepped through. "There you are. Arthur was wondering why you did not appear for breakfast considering you drank barely anything last night."

"Breakfast?" Lancelot ran a hand over his face and blinked, staring at his friend.

Galahad stopped, looking at something that was by his feet. Lancelot followed his gaze.

"I have always supposed that you enjoyed eating Lancelot, or did the circumstances last night prevent you from eating?" Galahad winked at Lancelot, grinning.

In a flash, the previous night came flooding back into Lancelot's mind.

The tray of food was by Galahad's feet, where he had abandoned it when he had seen Honor in pain. Sitting up, Lancelot took in everything around him, while Honor's head slipped off his shoulder and dropped slowly onto the bed.

"Did you fall asleep?" Vanora's voice floated in the doorway, and shortly her body appeared.

"I...I believe so," Lancelot said, running his hand through his hair.

"Come, Lancelot. Come with me and eat," Galahad walked over to the bed and extended his hand.

"Honor," Lancelot gestured towards the unconscious being that was spread over most of his body.

"I will look after her," Vanora smiled, walking over to the bed.

Galahad seized Lancelot's shoulders, while Vanora gently moved Honor of Lancelot's body. Galahad then pulled Lancelot off the bed, and kept an arm around Lancelot's shoulders as Lancelot shook his head to re-adjust to being vertical.

"No, no, you don't understand," Lancelot started to say.

"Come," Galahad started leading him out.

"Lancelot," Vanora said, sensing Lancelot's urgency. "Whatever you need to tell me can surely wait until you have eaten. And if it has anything to do with Honor, which I'm sure it has, well, she will be well, worry not. Now, go. After you have eaten, you can come back and talk with me."

Lancelot nodded slowly.

Galahad exchanged worried glances with Vanora, and propelled Lancelot out of the door towards the kitchens.


	11. Old friends

**A/N:** **Sorry about not updating very recently, but writer's block, school, exams, and family issues prevented me from doing so. I now have fractured my foot (which has left me in very bad pain) and so I believe I will be able to find more time to write. I have already written over what will be half the next chapter and so that will be up shortly. **

**Padmé, is a character whose name and personality I have stolen from one of my friends storys….at her request. So Padmé is hereby dedicated to my great friend, Sarah.**

**Read and review xD

* * *

**

"I'm worried," Arthur turned and looked Lancelot in the eye.

Almost three days had passed since Lancelot had found Honor disturbed in her sleep. Since that time, Honor had stayed in Lancelot's chambers, refusing to even look at anyone save for Lancelot and Vanora. And, for the two that she would acknowledge, they didn't know the last time she had eaten. The healers had been called, from all over Britain, but even the great ones had to acknowledge defeat. They did not know what was wrong with Honor, and they could not find out.

Lancelot sighed. "Honor is difficult, Arthur. There is nothing Van or I can do."

"I know, Lancelot, I know. But you tell me that Honor has not eaten in at least three, four days," Arthur said.

"That is so, Arthur."

"Have you not thought of the possibility that she might die?"

"Constantly."

Lancelot's vague, yet still to the point answer, partially infuriated Arthur. "What I mean, Lancelot, is should not something happen for her?"

Lancelot turned his eyes to the floor and shook his head slightly. "What am I to do, Arthur?"

"Have you considered getting another healer?" Arthur asked, pacing the floor slightly.

"I cannot see how any of them would have the power to help her in anyway…at least…" Lancelot sighed, watching Arthur's boots pacing.

"At least?" Arthur stopped pacing and looked at Lancelot carefully.

"I do not think that the wounds are just what we see. I believe that there's more to them…in her…" Lancelot looked up and ran his hand through his hair.

"I know Lancelot. Do you wish for me to call one of the Woad healers? They know this land well, as well as it's enemies and so I believe they could be of some use to Honor as she is from this land herself," Arthur nodded.

"Do you really think they could help –" Lancelot began.

"You doubt my people's healers?" a female voice broke in over the conversation and in walked Guinevere, Queen of Britain.

Lancelot looked over to her and bowed, almost mockingly. "I do not doubt your people as healers my lady, but I do have my doubts."

"About what, my lord, pray tell me. I would have thought that Merlin's healers would be able to heal better than you and your fellow knights whose only occupation is battle," Guinevere's dark eyes flashed as she glared at Lancelot.

"Lancelot, Guinevere, please do not start fighting over a little thing like this," Arthur, the ever-peace keeper held up his hands "If Lancelot would prefer it, we could send for a healer from Rome."

"Rome?" Guinevere and Lancelot spat in unison.

"You do not need to bear grudges against my homeland for all eternity. There are some things about it which you should admire, if only a little," Arthur smiled slightly. "However, if you wish it, I could contact one of commanders in the army who I knew when I was first taken to Rome, and ask him to recommend someone who has been across land and sea, and who now, I believe, works for Cristiano, my friend, and is in his employ."

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "I beg to remind you Arthur, that the last person we had to communicate with…well…he was a _friend_ of your father's after all."

"Aye, and this is a friend of _mine_," Arthur smiled.

Guinevere watched the exchange between the two friends silently.

"So it is settled," Arthur nodded to himself. "I will send word to Cristiano and ask him to recommend a healer that would be able to help Honor, if only slightly."

Lancelot nodded. "I must go and see Honor, Arthur."

"Must you go?" Guinevere smiled at Lancelot. "I am sure that Vanora can look after Honora for you. You need not run to her side for every moment."

"Her name is Honor," Lancelot gritted his teeth. "And she is my responsibility so therefore I cannot leave her for more then small amounts of time as she is distressed if I am not there for her."

Without waiting for a reply from Guinevere, he nodded to Arthur, and strode out of the room.

Guinevere instantly turned around to her husband-to-be, and Arthur almost groaned in horror as he saw Guinevere's lip tremble.

"It is alright, my love. Lancelot is tired. He has not slept well since Honor has returned here with us. You must not worry, he will be well."

"Honor seems to be the cause for concern around here for several people," Guinevere sighed, choking out the words slightly.

"Come, my love, do not upset yourself for Lancelot's gruff words," Arthur slipped an arm around Guinevere's thin waist and led her to a chair near the fire that had been built up in Arthur's chambers.

"I worry for Lancelot though, my lord," Guinevere reached out for Arthur's hand as she sat back in the chair.

"How so?" Arthur walked in front of Guinevere and knelt there.

"He seems different. I do not mean that he has been manipulated in mind by any person alive or dead, but he seems….he seems to be a different person."

"Does he?" Arthur frowned, standing up. "I will keep a close watch on him myself, do not worry my love."

Arthur bent over Guinevere, kissed her on the head, and started pacing his chambers again, his mind filled with thoughts.

* * *

Vanora looked up as Lancelot entered his chambers at a hurried pace. She stood from the chair that had been placed by the bed, and walked softly into the middle of the room to meet Lancelot. 

"She has not stirred since you left to go and speak with Arthur, Lancelot. I would not be concerned as much as I would be if she were awake as when she is sleeping, her body takes care of itself, and heals," Vanora smiled up at Lancelot and patted him gently on the back. "What news to you bring from Arthur?"

"He is sending word to a friend of his that he had met in Rome, a commander in the army who apparently knows of a healer that would be able to help Honor…if only very little," Lancelot replied, softly.

"Oh? Why does he not call upon one of the other healers that reside here in Britain, instead of wasting time in sending a message, having one returned, and having the healer sent," Vanora stared at Lancelot.

"I know not, obviously, this is a scheme of Arthur's. Remember that healers here have tried and failed. Perhaps Arthur thinks it best to call upon someone who is not in this country," Lancelot shrugged, his eyes finding the unconscious form on his bed.

"Perhaps…" Vanora's voice trailed off as she drifted into her thoughts.

Vanora moved quietly back to her seat by Honor, while Lancelot moved to the window, and leaned against it, his eyes never once leaving Honor's seemingly peaceful face.

* * *

Some days later, and many miles away, Commander Cristiano of Rome sat wearily back in his chair, having finished a battle report for the Emperor. He had been hearing rumours about a boy that he had known in Rome – one Arthur Castus – and shortly after, had found that indeed, the rumours were true, and Arthur was now the king of Britain, and should be married soon. If Cristiano had time, before he had to be back in Rome, he would have travelled to Rome, stopping in Britain to see his old friend, however time and urgency did not permit him to do so. 

He looked up as he heard a knock at the door.

"Enter."

One of the maidservents at his lodgings entered quickly. "If you please, a messenger just came with this for you, sir. Said it was urgent, he did."

"Thank you," Cristiano said, taking the small bundle of paper.

The maid curtsied the way out of the room while Cristiano turned his attention to the letter.

Flicking it over, he recognised the seal, but could not place it. Opening it, his mouth opened slightly as he read the letter, and then as he read the name at the bottom, he stood up, strode the small space of the room, opened the door and bellowed for Raul – a young man in the army who fearlessly stood next to him in battle, and who aided those who needed help.

Within seconds, Raul's quick footsteps could be heard echoing down the corridor, and then Raul appeared in front of Cristiano.

"Sir?" Raul asked, looking astonished at the expression on his commander's face.

"Find Padmé and send her to me immediately. I would speak to her," Cristiano said, nodding to Raul.

"Sir," Raul nodded and walked quickly away.


	12. Padmé

**I decided to split what was going to be a longer chapter, and I decided to get this up today and work on the next chapter tomorrow. ****I also decided to give the meaning of three names that you have read about:  
****Cristiano – A follower of Christ. A Christian.  
****Honor – her name is not really a proper name that one might have heard – the way that it is spelt - and it is my own form of Honour which means Honourable.  
****Raul – The counsel of the wolf. A fearless adviser.**

**Quick note – the character of Padmé** **is a character that belongs to DirrtyXtina87, a very great friend of mine, who recently had a really bad trauma in her life. Because of this, this chapter is dedicated to her, for forever bugging me to find inspiration and write it. Thankfully, I have suddenly found my writing ability again and plan to write HTD as quickly as I can in the remaining holiday period.  
****Okay, have another chapter, and I hope you enjoy it xD

* * *

**

"Open the gates. Please," The low, soft and musical voice said, from beneath the hood.

The guard looked down at the figure nervously. "Where are you from?"

"Rome...that is my home. I was sent on official business," the person answered the guard, never looking up at him from the horse on which they were perched.

The guard peered down at the figure once again. "Open the gates!" he squeaked nervously.

"Thank you," the person said, and nudged the horse forward.

---

Having passed the horse's reins to Jols, who had appeared from the tavern nearby looking slightly bewildered at the visitor who did not speak, the tall figure looked around.

"I am looking for Arthur," the person finally called out to the crowd that had gathered, including a few of the knights.

"And to what purpose do you seek him out?" a dark-headed knight emerged from the crowd.

"I was sent here. Now come, I do not have time to waste. Where is he?"

"Until you tell us, who you are, and why you are here, you will not even see the dust that clouded in the air after he had walked there," another man remarked, walking up to join the first man.

"You enjoy talking in riddles then?" the figure asked them, sighing inwardly. "I was sent here, by Rome's command to see your king, on your king's request. Now, pray tell me, whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

"The two men before you are two of my most trusted friends," a new voice floated over the crowd.

Instantly, the crowd parted.

Lancelot and Tristan narrowed their eyes as they watched the figure in front of them turn around to face Arthur.

"Arthur," the person bowed.

"Lancelot," Arthur gestured towards the dark knight," and Tristan, my scout. Now, what can I assist you with?"

"I am a healer," said the person.

"And you would not tell us before Arthur arrived?" Lancelot asked, staring at the person.

"Indeed, I was sent to Arthur, for Arthur. I could see no reason why I should disclose my identity to any person before him," the low voice replied.

"Are you a boy not yet a man? For a full-grown man would not have your voice, and yet a healer that is not yet a man cannot be trusted to fulfil his proper duty as a healer," Gawain stepped forward, eyeing the cloaked figure.

The person standing in front of the gathered people pulled back the hood and smiled. "My name is Padmé."

Lancelot stared at the healer in a partially shocked state. She was a beauty! Slightly curly brown hair fell around her white face, whilst her grey eyes showed no emotion.

"Arthur, I was sent here by the Commander Cristiano who requested that I might try and help this girl that is under your care. Might I see her?" the lyrical voice asked.

Arthur nodded. "This way."

Padmé inclined her head to the gathered crowd of people and swept after Arthur.

Arthur smiled at the tall woman who walked beside him. He stopped suddenly, whilst ramming a hand against his forehead. Turning towards the knights that were still standing where they had been previously, he called out to Lancelot to join them.

"You never know when we might need you," he smiled to his friend.

Lancelot nodded and strode in the direction of his chambers while Padmé looked curiously at the two men at her side.

"Arthur, what ails this girl?" Padmé asked quietly.

"I am afraid I cannot say, Padmé. No one knows so far. We have sent for healers from across the land, once the one's that live here, could not clarify what was wrong with her. Everyone knows that there is something wrong, but no one knows what," Arthur shrugged, "That is what we hope that you can find out, if only a bit."

"Aye, I see," Padmé nodded. "And so, to begin with, you wish for me to examine her?"

Arthur nodded.

"Physically or mentally?" Padmé continued.

"Well…what you think is best, Padmé. You came of the highest recommendation that I could trust, and so therefore I place my trust in you to do your best," Arthur smiled slightly.

Padmé smiled back. "That is a very great thing you have placed on my shoulders then, Arthur. It would be our mutual friend Cristiano, I believe Arthur."

Arthur nodded. "Indeed it is, how did you come to know him?"

"I….we met, years ago in Rome. He took me under his wing. He cared for me as I was growing up, and he paid for my training as a healer. When I was old enough, I started travelling with Cristiano when he was spent on small ventures with his army. I gradually was accepted as the only female person in his regiment. I am now one of the healer's within his regiment," Padmé smiled again. "He is the kindest man I have ever met. And you, how did you meet Cristiano?"

"We knew each other as boys. We both dreamed of becoming officers in Rome's army."

"Ah, I see," Padmé's lips curled upwards, not quite a smile.

"Lancelot, will you make sure that she is alone? I think that the less number of people intruding on her, the better," Arthur asked.

Lancelot nodded, and increased his pace, moving ahead of Arthur and Padmé.

"What is the patient's name?" Padmé asked.

"Honor," Arthur replied. "Ah, here we are."

Whether it is fortunate or not so for Arthur, he did not see the expression that flashed across Padmé's face, which lasted only an instant.

"Honor? That is an uncommon name, certainly I have heard of few people bearing the name," Padmé remarked, as Arthur moved to knock on the door.

"Indeed, I know of few people that have even a similar name to it," Arthur replied, knocking.

Lancelot quickly swung open the door. "Come in."

Padmé smiled at Lancelot as she walked past him, her smile never failing even when he stared straight ahead of him, instead of looking at her.

"Honor, my dear. This is a healer to look at you. Her name is Padmé," Arthur walked slowly to the bedside and smiled down at the small bundle on it.

'_It is not! It cannot be! Oh God!_' Padmé gazed in shock at the bundle on the bed.

"Padmé?" Honor murmured. "She is here?"

Arthur and Lancelot exchanged a look.

"Indeed, my dear, she is a healer come to look at you. Do not worry, if you fear anything, we will be standing right outside. Padmé will not harm you," Lancelot said through gritted teeth.

Padmé moved her gaze from Honor to Lancelot. "Indeed, you are too kind."

Arthur smiled at Padmé as he walked out the door, followed by Lancelot, who seemed to linger in the room until the last possible moment.

As the door shut behind Lancelot, Padmé untied her cloak, slid it onto the nearest chair, pulled her gloves off, and moved to stand at the side of the bed.

"Padmé," Honor glared at her. "What do you do here?"


	13. The healer

**Okay, I really must apologise. I meant to upload this chapter a week or so ago, but unfortunately my family is going through some very distressing issues that take up a huge portion of time and energy from everyone concerned.  
****So I'm sorry about the wait and hope you all enjoy this chapter xD

* * *

**

Outside Lancelot's chambers, Arthur and Lancelot exchanged another look.

"I do not think that Honor likes our new healer," Lancelot said, quietly.

"Hush, Lancelot. She is here to try and heal Honor," Arthur shook his head.

"I do not trust her really Arthur," Lancelot sighed. "There was unrest in Honor's eyes as she looked upon Padmé."

Arthur shrugged. "We cannot assume things that we do not know, Lancelot."

Lancelot growled. "Still…"

_Time passes _

"Lancelot, pacing will not help. Padmé will let us know when she is done," Arthur looked pleadingly at Lancelot as Lancelot passed in front of him yet again.

"Arthur," a feminine voice softly sounded.

Both men looked over to the door of Lancelot's chambers expecting to see Padmé there, when they saw that the door was shut, they looked around until their gaze fell upon Guinevere who was standing further down the corridor.

"I heard that there was a healer here now, looking at Honor. I came to see if I could help in any way at all," Guinevere glided over to Arthur and slipped a hand through his arm.

"Not at the moment, my dear. Padmé – the healer – is in with Honor at the moment. All we can do is simply wait," Arthur patted her hand and smiled down at Guinevere.

"Lancelot," Guinevere pouted, looking at the dark knight.

"Aye?" Lancelot replied, abruptly.

"What is the matter? You seem tense."

"What do you think is the matter Guin? I'm worried about Honor!" Lancelot stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair.

Guinevere visibly winced. "Sorry," she murmured.

---

"I was sent for," Padmé smiled gently. "Arthur sent word to Cristiano, who sent for me to come and heal you."

"Cristiano! He knew, he knew and he did not come himself!" Honor gulped.

"Ssshh, no sweetling. No names were mentioned in the actual letter. Arthur simply stated that he would like Cristiano to recommend a healer to try and heal someone who seemed to be past help. That was all." Padmé cooed gently.

"You…you out of all people were sent to heal me? Why you? Why?" A tear slid down Honor's face.

"We have past regrets that we must face Honor. Can you at least let me try and help you? Please? For Cristiano?" Padmé sighed, toying with the end of a piece of her hair.

"I don't need help," Honor shook her head and turned her face away from Padmé.

"Well…will you help me fulfil what I was sent here to do at least? Let me examine you, so then Arthur and Lancelot and anyone else who is interested can be satisfied about your physical state?" Padmé asked, gently. "Honor? Please?"

Honor slowly looked at Padmé. "Just examine me? nothing else?"

"If you wish it," Padmé nodded slowly.

Honor sighed. "If you must. Please…be gentle though, I've already had half the population of this country poking and prodding me in the past week alone!"

Padmé chuckled. "Come now, surely it isn't that bad?"

"Oh, indeed," Honor muttered, "men who are old enough to be your great-grandfather, muttering away as they poke you with a stick. That is not bad then."

Padmé smiled slightly, hearing Honor's mumbled complaints. She rubbed a soothing hand over Honor's shoulder. In her thoughts, she was of different mind. Why did Honor have to snub her?

---

Lancelot shared a look with Arthur yet again. Sighing, Lancelot strode away from his door, striding out of sight, and then came back.

"How long will the examination take?" Guinevere asked Arthur, curiously, walking ot a window and looking out to watch what was happening below.

Arthur shrugged. "It depends on the amount of physical harm done to Honor."

"The healers found all the physical ailments and healed them…didn't they?" Guinevere asked, turning around to face Arthur.

"Who knows if Padmé found something," Lancelot began.

Lancelot's chamber door suddenly opened and Padmé walked out, closing the door softly behind her.

"Well?" Arthur and Lancelot looked at her anxiously.

"Physically she will live," Padmé hesitated.

"Mentally?" Lancelot breathed.

"There is a cloud hovering…" Padmé began.

"Is she well or no?" Lancelot strode over to Padmé and glared at her furiously.

"No, she is not, Lancelot," Padmé said, looking Lancelot in the eye. "And I do not know when and if she will be well."

"What is wrong?" Arthur asked, walking over to join Lancelot.

Padmé sighed. "I wish I knew, Arthur."

---

"She is very good-looking, is she not?" Gawain hooted, happily drunk.

"Who?" Dagonet looked over at Gawain.

"The healer, whatever her name is… Padmé…that's her name," Gawain replied, grinning happily.

"I think Lancelot will claim her before you even have the chance to consider it," Bors grinned. "He was watching her closely. Very closely indeed."

"And I was not?" Gawain blinked.

"You were about to kill her," Tristan stated simply, slipping a piece of an apple into his mouth.

"I was about to eat her," Gawain grinned, slapping his ale cup down on the table and smirking around at his fellow knights.

"Aye, of course you were," Bors said, sarcastically.

"Where be Galahad?" Gawain asked, suddenly realising that his usual bosum companion was no where to be seen, from where he was sitting at the table at least.

Tristan paused in slicing another bit of the apple with his dagger, and used his dagger to point in the direction of the bar. "They disappeared together. Galahad and Phaedra."

Bors winked around at the knights. "Aye, and I will be bound that they will not be needing a single bit of help from any of us."

The other knights sniggered, save for Tristan who calmly and deftly popped another bit of apple in his mouth.

Tristan stood up. "I will go and see Arthur. You lot had better become sober fairly quickly as you might be needed for something."

As Gawain started to protest about becoming sober, Tristan smoothly cut him off. "It is the morning after all, Gawain."

Dagonet stood up. "I'll come with you Tristan. I have no wish to become drunk at the moment."

"Talk about brothers-in-arms. Won't even support you in forgetting everything," Gawain muttered, pulling another cup of ale towards himself.


	14. No love

**Evil schoolwork! Yes, that is what is wrong. Schoolwork. It's so evil. I've had at leasttwo tests and five assignments each week. do you know how much that kills? anywho, I made sure I did this lil update today, and I plan doing a big update again soon xD**

**Hope you enjoy, and remember, reviews are much love**

* * *

"That was delicious, Arthur. My compliments to your cooks," Padmé smiled. 

Arthur smiled back and nodded. "They have outshone themselves this time, have they not my dear?"

"Indeed, dearest," Guinevere smiled to Arthur, resting her hand on his arm.

Padmé grinned at the gesture inwardly. The claims that Guinevere insisted on laying upon every man present was amazing. Amazing that not one of the men realised what Guinevere was doing to them – bewitching them so that they would fall in love with her. And it was so clear to Padmé.

Choking back laughter, Padmé rose from the infamous round table. "I will go and visit Honor now. I hope to start trying to heal her mental wound."

The knights and Guinevere all stood – although it can be said that more than one knight stumbled as he stood, grabbing hold of the table for balance.

"We will see you later?" Guinevere asked, a smile plastered over her face.

"Of course, my lady," Padmé bobbed quickly to Guinevere, and then left the room.

"She is most efficient," Guinevere smiled around the room and sat down again to continue eating.

---

Padmé giggled slightly as she strode down the seemingly endless corridors.

Guinevere was an act. She was so charming, so delightful, just so long as she knew that she would get her own way in things. And also that she would be able to keep all the men lusting after her, but of course, she would forever be just out of reach, leaving all men heartbroken as she kissed Arthur.

As her mind fell upon the main concern however, Padmé quickly sobered up. What was Honor doing here, at Hadrian's Wall? What had happened to her that made her become such a recluse to the world? That was what puzzled Padmé the most.

Sighing slightly, she opened the door that led into the chamber's that belonged to Lancelot.

"You're back," a quiet voice said sharply, almost accusingly.

"Indeed my dear, I am," Padmé smiled at Honor, who lay on the bed staring past Padmé to the door.

"Did you not do my physical examination properly? I can assure you that you did examine me thoroughly. I still feel sore from the number of times that I was prodded and poked by you, dearest Padmé," Honor smiled at Padmé, although in Padmé's eyes it was more of a sneer.

"Arthur was pleased with what I had to report to him…" Padmé was cut off by Honor coughing on purpose.

"You never told me what was wrong with me, my dear. Will you not tell me as I lie on my deathbed, thinking I have naught but a slight cold?" Honor glanced innocently up at Padmé.

"If you were going to die, or if you were struck with a near-fatal fever, I think you would know. And if you did not realise that, I would hurry to tell you," Padmé replied.

"Oh, indeed? Pray tell me then, what you do here, for it can surely not be a pleasure visit for you."

"Everyone believes that you are not quite well mentally," Padmé chose her words carefully "and so Arthur would like me to see if there is anything that I could possibly do for you as a healer."

"Is that so?" Honor sneered. "And what, dear healer, is the matter with me?"

"Physically, you are wounded. Badly yes, but not so bad that it warrants a surgeon caring for you all the time. You already have some stitches, and I think that they will suffice the job that they are needed for," Padmé said.

"And yet my mental state leaves a lot to be desired?" Honor asked.

"Arthur is worried, Honor. Can you not respect that?" Padmé replied, desperately wishing for an answer to Honor – she was just wishing that Honor would be reasonable.

"Have people respected what I wanted? Ever!" Honor asked, her eyes flashing across Padmé's face.

"They have, Honor. You know this. I care about you, as if you were my own sister…" Padmé replied desperately.

"Aye, and if you were to have your way, then you would be my sister," Honor muttered darkly.

"What was that, Honor?" Padmé looked at Honor's face.

Honor shrugged.

"Whatever you may think about me, please know that I really do care about you," Padmé stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at Honor.

"You cared abut me, when you were taking him away from me?" Honor glared.

Padmé stared down at Honor in horror and in shock. "I never took him away from you Honor, never!"

"You didn't? So why was I forever measured and wanted behind you! If I ever wanted to talk to him – 'Oh my pet you cannot talk to the Master at the moment, he is talking with Padmé. He may be able to talk to you afterwards. Come with me and I can find some needlework for you to do. Once you have started, I will let Master know that you wish to speak to him, and so he may come and see you if he has time' – that would be the response. Whenever I wanted to talk, for things to be like old times, it could not possibly be. You were always there, held in awe over me," Honor cried, a bitter tear ran down her face.

"He told me that he was worried about you. You seemed to never talk to people. You wouldn't talk to us!" Padmé said urgently.

Honor stared at her. "Padmé, that would be because after the number of times I tried to talk to either of you and was ignored, it seemed pointless to keep talking to something that did not exist."

Padmé stood, looking at Honor with a mixture of shock and sadness etched over her face.

"Aye, and now that the truth has been told, you do not wish to hear it," Honor muttered, and turned her face away from Padmé. "Please go, I am tired."

Padmé turned away slowly and walked to the door. "If you want me Honor, I will be next door in the chamber that Arthur gave to me for my own uses."

---

Once inside her own chamber, Padmé sank down onto the bed. Seeing Honor in this state made the past come alive for her in ways that she wished could stay buried. What would her brother say if he could see her? He would not believe it no matter how much Honor had changed in the past few years. Running her hands through her hair, Padmé sighed. There was only one option.


End file.
